


Children of the Dragon

by storm_blade



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 92,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_blade/pseuds/storm_blade
Summary: The Dovahkiin is just trying to survive her new life in Skyrim. As she journeys across Tamriel, she makes friends, battles enemies, learns the meaning of love and loss. Can she do all of what is required of her? What about when certain complications come about?Follows the game for the most part, and features brief crossovers with two other fics.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Kudos: 16





	1. Beginning

_“I can breathe more deeply now. I can’t smell your heart beating the way i used to. But my mind is… clear.”_

Those were the first words spoken after the curse was lifted and the spirit of the wolf was finally laid to rest. Their meaning wasn’t pondered over at the time, just words in the aftermath of an intense battle. It wasn’t until much later, when those words entered her dream, that she began to pore over the possible intentions.

Tossing and turning in her bed in Lakeview Manor, the DragonBorn tried to find clarity within the mysterious declaration. ‘What did he mean by that?’ She wondered, sleep eluding her once again. It wasn’t until the sky began turning gray that she could finally fall into slumber, and Rayya the steward wisely let her Thane sleep as long as she needed to.

It was around mid-afternoon when she finally woke up, and as her golden eyes opened she heard the sounds of Lucia playing outside, along with the semi-distant sound of a pickaxe on stone, letting her know that Rayya was mining the iron ore deposit that was nearby. At least she had the house to herself, which was a good thing in her current mood.

Lucia giggled at something, and the DragonBorn resisted going and looking out the window to find out what had enchanted her daughter so while she stretched out her limbs. Currently clad in only a simple linen shift over leggings, she wondered what people might think if they knew the DragonBorn slept in minimal clothing because it was faster to grab the bow next to her bed than to get dressed in the event bandits stormed her home.

With a small sigh, she flicked a lock of her long midnight hair off of her shoulder and strode over to her wardrobe. As she opened the doors to reveal the contents, she was greeted with various robes and armors hanging neatly. Glancing over to the mannequin in the hallway that was clad in her statement ebony armor, she decided against being so bold today.

There was no one to impress, no Jarl to look good for as she tried to create peace in a town, so she was free to wear what she desired. Rummaging past mage robes, thief garb, and leather gear, she decided on wearing her elven armor today. While it had a definitive green sheen to it, she admired how light it was on her body, and made for accurate archery without being weighed down by her gauntlets or chest piece.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she put on the foot wrappings one at a time, then slipped on the boots and bracers. From there she added the waist piece to protect her groin and her thighs, the maille jingling merrily as she adjusted the belt. Pulling the armor over her head, she had the thought that it was certainly ridiculous wearing so much all the time, but her time in Skyrim had taught her that anything less was tempting death from others, let alone the Daedra.

She then put on her enchanted leather gloves, and over that her elven gauntlets. Pulling the helmet on over her hair, she tucked her tresses up inside it neatly so that she wouldn’t catch any arrows and ruin her quiver. From afar, one would think she was a slim male in decent armor instead of the female DragonBorn. That was how she liked it, since a bandit slipping close would catch her unrelenting force shout and then taste the steel of her short sword. 

Strapping her glass bow and quiver of matching arrows to her back, she then headed out into the hallway, down the stairs and went outside. “Mama!” Lucia called, running up to her. Her shining face warmed the nord woman’s heart, and every day she was grateful for adopting this child.

“Hello Lucia,” she replied, her greeting warm and full of love.

“Do you have anything for me?” the precocious child asked, and she watched her mother intently as she hoped for a toy or a treat. Reaching into the pouch secured at her hip, she pulled out a honey nut treat and held it out for Lucia. “Thanks!” she called as she trotted off with it, and the DragonBorn chuckled to herself before heading over to the stable.

“Honored to see you, my Thane,” came Rayya’s gentle voice, and she emerged from the shadow of the trees. Her eyes were bright, but wary as the steward flicked a glance around them, always on the lookout for bandits, necromancers, wolves, or dragons. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary her gaze returned, and she smiled.

“Good afternoon, Rayya,” the DragonBorn replied, her tone polite but not cold. “I am traveling to Whiterun today, and should be gone for a few days. I would like for you to look after Lucia while I’m gone, and to purchase another chicken. The wolves ate one last time a pack came through.”

“Of course, I’ll see to it at once,” Rayya said, accepting the gold and putting it away. With that she waved while the DragonBorn hopped into the saddle of her favorite horse, affectionately known as ‘Queen Allie’ and rode off at a brisk trot towards her destination. It was going to be a long ride, and she intended to rest in Riverwood along the way. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Night had long since fallen by the time she made it into Riverwood, and she dismounted Allie by the stables before heading straight to the inn and paying for a bed to sleep in. Thankfully she was so exhausted from all the hours spent in the saddle that sleep found her quickly, and by the time morning came she had a quick meal of cabbage soup and some wine before heading out to grab Allie and continue on her way.

The trip was a relatively easy one, save for the wolves that tried to make a meal of her. Merely galloping out of their reach, she then slowed down to a trot so that she wouldn’t tire her horse out too quickly. She crossed a few rivers and streams, noting the plentiful game and the mudcrabs on the banks while she traversed the land. Hunting would be good, should she need to.

It was nearing sunset when she finally broached the stables of Whiterun, and she dismounted with the casual skillfulness of a seasoned warrior while a stable hand grabbed Allie’s reins to lead her to a stall for a rubdown and feeding. Nonchalantly flicking her hand in a wave, she strode up the stone path towards the gates with the confidence of someone who knew what they were doing.

As the Thane of Whiterun, she was greeted by many people while she passed by Breezehome, and waved to her Housecarl Lydia on the way past. She continued onward and upwards, up to the first marketplace. Turning left, she ascended the stone stairs that led her to the great tree in the middle of a circular area, in front of a statue the Servant of Talos preached at all day every day. 

Ignoring his words while he yelled about maggots writhing in the dust, she picked up her pace into a slight trot while turning towards the steps that led to Jorrvaskr. Pushing on the doors to head inside, the difference in light caused her to squint and so she couldn’t see for several moments when she slipped inside the hall.

“Hail, Harbinger,” said a voice, and she shifted to see who had managed to get the drop on her while she was momentarily blinded. As her vision cleared, she was greeted with the sight of Aela the Huntress standing before her. One look told her that Aela had recently transformed, and looked a little exhausted from it. Whatever she had been doing, it had clearly taxed her in some manner.

“Hail, Aela,” she replied solemnly, but her face was pensive. “You look tired. Perhaps you should rest before going on the next mission, and eat to regain your strength.” Aela nodded without replying, and left to go to the sleeping quarters. With that she shifted her attention to see who was inside the main hall, and who was missing. 

Surprisingly, aside from Aela the place was empty. Either people had already headed off to bed, or they were still outside training. Walking past the great tables filled with food at all hours, she opened the doors leading to the courtyard that was often the training arena for new prospects and greenhorn recruits. 

Torches glowed brightly, and the thumps of impacts on the mannequins let her know that indeed there were still Companions out here honing their skills under the watchful eyes of those that remained of the circle. Heading down the steps, she noted that some were practicing with bows on the targets, while others were swinging blades wildly at the dummies. 

“Watch your footwork, Ria, or you’ll fall right over.” The honeyed drawl of an accented voice she knew too well graced her ears as she drew nearer, and she saw him standing there watching the recruits. His arms were folded against the silver wolf armor that gleamed in the rosy light, but his attention was solely on his students.

Vilkas, one of the leaders of the Companions. She knew without seeing his face that he was frowning, his silver eyes intense while he observed his shield-sister practice her two-handed skills. Ria had been the new recruit before she had joined the Companion guild, but while she had managed to become Harbinger and take over after Kodlak Whitemane’s death, the other had fallen behind thanks to the Silver Hand’s attack before they’d been weeded out for good.

Ria whined about the sword being heavy and throwing off her technique, and Vilkas chastised her before showing her the proper form for the swing she was attempting on the mannequin. A smile crossed the DragonBorn's face before she was rudely bumped into, and she stumbled a bit from being caught off-guard.

“Hey! Watch it there milk drinker!” a surly voice snarled at her, and the man who had bumped her eyed her with disdain. Before she could utter a shout that would send this pompous ass flying across the courtyard, a gloved hand plopped onto the man’s shoulder and spun him around. The DragonBorn's eyes flicked up to take in Farkas, a man of few words but who took honor seriously.

“That’s the Harbinger you’ve just spoken to so rudely, mongrel whelp,” he growled at the man, before cocking back a fist and sending it flying into the khajiit’s face and sending him sprawling across the stones. Farkas then spat on the cat’s body while he moaned in pain, stepping over him to their leader. 

“You alright?” he asked, his drawl showing his satisfaction at putting someone into their place. He hated it when people were dishonorable around him, especially to women or those he saw as his friends. Nobody spoke like that to the Harbinger of the Companions though, no matter who it was. Kodlak had been revered by all nine holds in Skyrim, and the DragonBorn was reaching equal levels of respect and admiration.

She nodded tightly, pursing her lips to hold back the Shout she was itching to release in her irritation. The khajiit on the ground moaned again, then sat up while holding his face. “You broke this one's nose,” he complained, and she noted the dagger at his side. “It’s not this one's fault that little she-nord was in the way while this one was--” he was unable to finish his sentence.

“FUS RO DAH!” she Shouted, fury adding to the power of the dragon cry and sending the idiot flying back into the mannequins, knocking them all over with a mighty crash. All battle practice stopped, and everyone turned to look at her as she panted slightly. Vilkas approached her slowly, his hands held high to show he meant no harm.

“Aelinna Storm-Bringer,” he said softly, using her name. “Harbinger of the Companions, Slayer of the Glenmoril Witches, Thane of Whiterun, DragonBorn.” Hearing her titles along with her name helped bring her back to reality, and the rage left her face while the unmistakable aura of magic faded from around her. 

As her stance relaxed, she noticed him take a subtle sigh of relief while Farkas let go of the hilt of the sword at his back. The twins were two of the very few who knew her name outside of the Jarls and the Greybeards, the others being Aela and Kodlak, Ysmir rest his soul. “Pay no mind to the insolent whelp, he is a new prospect who will be rejected after his actions of today,” Vilkas continued, his accent lending a lilt to his words and making even the most mundane of conversations sound exotic. 

Farkas nodded in agreement, folding his arms across his beefy chest in a stance mirrored to that of his brother’s earlier. “Man comes in and insults the Harbinger, then expects us to sit back and accept that is no man to me,” he said gruffly, adding on to his brother’s words in his less eloquent fashion. 

The sound of clattering wood drew the trio’s attention, and they watched as Ria tried to help the khajiit out of the pile of ruined dummies and targets. “Sorry about the mess,” Aelinna said at length, and both men shook their heads at her.

“Don’t worry about it, some men need to learn their place in the world and he’s one of them,” Vilkas replied, humor tinting his words as his mood brightened. 

“Yeah, that milk drinker had it coming to him,” Farkas chimed in, looking somewhat amused himself while they watched the show. Ria stumbled backwards when the khajiit swiped at her, but she started yelling at him with enough profanity that they looked suitably impressed. 

As he finally got to his feet, blood streaming from his broken nose, Ria managed to pull him free of the wreck he’d made and then began taking him away. “Ria!” Vilkas called to her, and she paused to look at him. “Take him to the Temple of Kynareth for healing.”

“Yes sir!” she called back, and then the pair left without any more issues. Aelinna watched them go, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

“Can you imagine if he knew the truth of the circle?” she asked, and the twins gaped at her. The mirrored expressions cause a giggle to escape her lips, and then they both frowned at her.

“Do not jest of such things, Harbinger,” Vilkas scolded, but that just caused her to giggle harder, whilst simultaneously trying not to actually laugh and draw attention to their conversation. This of course caused her to look very comical with a fist pressed to her lips while the twin brothers stared her down, but thankfully no one had been looking in their direction so Aelinna was able to compose herself. 

“That cat would get us all killed if he knew the truth,” Farkas growled, and Aelinna nodded her acquiescence to his point. “It’s better that he leaves thinking us a rowdy bunch with honor than wolves out for blood.”

His last statement caused Vilkas to snort, and Aelinna once again attempted to drown out her giggling so that anyone nearby wouldn’t hear them and ask what it was they were talking about. “And just what is so funny?” a pleasant voice asked from behind, and Aelinna spun around. Eorlund Grey-Mane stood there, smiling at her.

“Hello Eorlund,” she greeted pleasantly, and he nodded back to her. “What brings you down from the skyforge?” he glanced at the twins before replying, and she immediately wondered if he was up to something that she didn’t know about yet.

“I came to tell you that I have a new axe ready, made from some new steel I got in recently,” he explained, and she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly at him. She didn’t use a war axe, everyone knew that. She heavily favored the bow and the short sword, so Eorlund coming down to talk about a weapon she would never use was quite unusual. 

“I see,” she replied, her tone guarded while she began to shift into a stance that said she was willing to grab her short sword sheathed at her hip at a moment’s notice, or her bow if necessary. Seeing her shift in body language, both of the men grabbed their hilts while staring at the long time blacksmith for the Companions. 

“Peace, Harbinger,” Eorlund said, making a calming motion with his hand while watching to see if she was going to attack him or not. She moved slightly to a more relaxed position, but her guard was definitely up. Noticing this, he smiled again while turning to face the direction of the forge. “Come with me and see it, in the underforge. Those two can come along as well.”

At that they all exchanged glances with each other, then decided to see what the old man was up to. There was definitely something afoot here, and the best way to find out would be to play his game until they could get more information. If there was something going on, the underforge was the best place to talk about it since only the circle had access to it. 

Following him up the hill towards the underforge, Aelinna couldn’t help but think about Skjor as she passed through the doorway. While his death had been unavoidable, she wondered what would be different if they had managed to defeat the Silver Hand in time, or for that matter had managed to prevent them from attacking Jorrvaskr and killing Kodlak and wounding Athis. 

She definitely wouldn’t be the Harbinger now, and it was likely that she and the twins would all still be werewolves. While she had gotten used to the transformations, it had been annoying during the Hunt of Hircine when she had been trying to appease the Daedric Prince and wearing the ring that caused her to shift forms at random intervals. 

Eorlund interrupted her thoughts as he paused by the great bowl that was used for the rituals. Aela’s blood had long since dried within the stained basin, but it was burned into her memory as brightly as if it had just happened, not months and months ago. 

“I apologize for the subterfuge, Harbinger, but some things cannot be discussed around such open ears,” he began, and he immediately had her full, undivided attention. The silence within the small cavern was nearly painful as she waited for him to continue, wondering what on Tamriel this was about. 

“I brought you three here as you know what it’s like to hear the call of the wolf, to be moon born,” he continued after several moments, and he was clearly choosing his words carefully. Aelinna exchanged glances with Vilkas, while Farkas was staring stonily at the old blacksmith. While he had known of their intent and later success on curing Kodlak so he could rest in Sovngarde, she hadn’t realized he knew about the circle being so chosen.

Then again, since he knew about Wuuthrad and about Kodlak keeping one of the fragments in his bedroom, it wasn’t too far of a leap to assume that he knew everything about the Companions, and wisely kept his mouth shut about it. His best customers would only remain such if he kept their secrets, a stance the DragonBorn could understand. 

A sudden memory of her in her beast form running past the skyforge caused Aelinna to wince slightly. Then again, he might know because she ran right past his work station at a time when he might have been awake. Which was also possible. Hard to be subtle with all the guards of Whiterun on your tail and a big ass bounty on your head.

“In any case, this is a sensitive issue that only the circle can help with,” Eorlund went on, unaware of the DragonBorn’s wandering mind. “I trust that I don’t need to tell you what would happen if word got out on this.” Triplet glares met his gaze, and Eorlund chuckled. “Good. Now to the heart of the matter.” He clapped his hands together once, then rubbed them a bit. 

“In the town of Falkreath, there has been talk of odd killings. Cows at first, then horses and chickens. After the death of Sinding, people got paranoid and one of them contacted me since you were out doing something for the Jarl.” 

Aelinna clenched her jaw, remembering. That was why she had ended up doing the hunt, and skinning a werewolf to appease a god so that she could continue to walk on this plane. Now it would seem that more were terrorizing this town, and if she didn’t get her butt down there soon it seems there would be at least one more addition to the massive cemetery. 

“I take it I’m supposed to find out just what, exactly, is going on?” she asked, her tone somewhat resigned. 

“Well yes, and eliminate if necessary. Can’t have rabid wolves running around killing innocent folk in Skyrim,” Eorlund replied without missing a beat. Aelinna just barely managed to catch herself before she rolled her eyes in response, but the look on her face told more than her stifled action did. Vilkas subtly elbowed her in the side, and she responded by very slightly stomping on his foot.

Message received, Vilkas moved about an inch away from her in defeat while Eorlund absorbed that little battle. ‘Ever the teacher to the newer pups,’ Eorlund thought to himself, but he brushed aside the thought as he brought the meeting to a close. “When you’re done with this little investigation, just come back to Jorrvaskr and see me up at my forge,” he finished, and the trio nodded at him.

As Aelinna turned to follow Farkas out of the underforge, she realized she had told Rayya she would only be gone for a few days, but depending on how well this mission to Falkreath went, that may be longer. Sure it wasn’t that far from her home, well within a few minutes’ ride, but werewolves were not some pithy thing easy to capture or kill. She knew that only too well, having put down rabid souls before, as well as destroying the wolf spirits that had made them beasts in the first place.

Potentially rabid creatures so close to Lakeview Manor though, that was definitely troubling. Aelinna was deeply absorbed in her thoughts about Lucia and Rayya while she headed in to sleep in Jorrvaskr, intending to leave at first light the next morning with a follower to help give her backup. This was gonna get messy.


	2. Temptation

Dawn was just coming to Whiterun when Aelinna left Jorrvaskr. Initially she hadn’t known who to bring with her, thinking perhaps Aela because she was still of the blood, but she was still exhausted from shifting so she instead turned to the twins. Farkas declined, having elected to stay behind and enjoy some spiced wine.

Vilkas had agreed to accompany her, he’d been feeling restless from doing nothing but teaching lately since the DragonBorn had been away dealing with the people of Skyrim. While the new recruits were doing well, he wanted a break and a chance to get some real fighting in. He’d mentioned that it was very different than the pretend fighting of teaching, and was more exhilarating than sparring with an opponent you were trying not to kill.

Either way, he wanted to come along and she wanted backup. The pair were silent as they headed down and out towards the gates, since no one was awake yet to tend to their shops Whiterun was quiet and empty aside from the guards that patrolled at all hours. Their footsteps were quiet on the stones as they moved, and once outside the gates they went to the stables.

Aelinna brought Allie out, brushing her forelock out of her eyes and feeding her a carrot while inspecting the tack. While making a slight adjustment to one of the saddle straps, she watched Vilkas lead out a cream colored horse with a white mane and tail. He did the same inspection, adjusting the bridle up the stallion’s head a bit and tugging the hind strap into place. 

Once they were ready, they both hopped into their respective saddles and headed towards Falkreath. Since this was not a pleasure run, they kept their horses in a rolling canter to ensure a brisk pace without losing stamina. Aelinna’s nerves got to her though, and she ended up pushing Allie into a gallop. Vilkas followed without a word, and thundering hooves announced their journey south towards their destination.

As the sun crept across the sky, they kept the hard pace for hours. Aelinna hated to do it, but Skyrim horses were bred for stamina and speed, so they could handle it for a time. It was mid-afternoon when they came in to Falkreath, and Aelinna slowed Allie to a walk while riding her in to find a place to keep her while she did her business. 

Deciding the lumber mill was the best place, she wheeled Allie in that direction and once there, dismounted and walked her around in a few slow circles, then led her to the river for a drink while she carefully pulled a currying comb out of a saddlebag and brushed the dust out of the mare’s coat. A few moments later Vilkas joined her, having also dismounted and walked the horse before leading it to drink and brushing the coat.

Their eyes met as they cleaned their mounts, and Aelinna was the first to look away. She knew better, it was a sign of submission and weakness to a wolf, but she reminded herself that he was merely a man now, the curse had been broken and he was his normal self again. She grabbed Allie’s reins and moved her over to the stump that served as a chopping block, then did a ground tie to ensure the horse had plenty of grass to eat and the ability to get more water.

Just as she turned to walk back towards Falkreath proper, a hand landed on her shoulder. Aelinna paused, looking back over her shoulder through her helm but didn’t turn around. “Aelinna,” Vilkas murmured, his voice gentle and full of an emotion she couldn’t name. 

“Not now,” she whispered back, her words hinting at some pain. The hand remained, a steadying presence and a balm to her weary soul. She hadn’t known what he was going to say, she merely tried to keep a professional distance between them as someone who was supposed to be an impartial leader, a person to look up to beyond reproach. 

“Aelinna,” he repeated, his words still soft. “Your mind is on Lucia, is it not?” he asked, and Aelinna flinched at his statement. She had forgotten that he knew about her daughter, in fact it was no secret that she had adopted an orphan and was looking to add a sibling or two to her home. Nodding, she didn’t dare try to look at him while she waited for the next moment. 

“Lucia will be fine in your steward’s hands. Come, let us take care of this matter quickly so you can return home to her.” With that he lifted his hand away, and moved a few feet back so that she would have her space. She didn’t reply, merely resumed moving to find out where she was supposed to go to find out what this werewolf problem was. 

It didn’t take long to figure it out, once she made it over to the farm by the cemetery she was greeted by a small group of panicky-looking people. They had wide, frightened eyes and were very much alert, and she figured at least one of them must have been the one to contact Eorlund Gray-Mane when she was out of Whiterun. 

“My Thane!” one of them cried out, shoving past the others and standing before her. A blond haired nord, he seemed the calmest out of the flighty bunch as he addressed her. “You came! Are you here to help us?” his words were earnest, almost pleading while the crowd of half a dozen looked at her with expressions of hope and fear mixed together. 

“I am,” Aelinna replied, her response conveying a confidence she didn’t currently feel. This seemed to mollify them, and she watched as several took sighs of relief and visibly relaxed. The two who didn’t seemed like they had a mind to fight someone or something, but she wasn’t worried as most villagers seemed to chicken out before any battle started, unless a dragon came. Then it was just chaos while she and the guards endeavored to slay it. 

“Please!” the man continued, but she knew he was simply trying to explain what was going on while currently in an agitated state. “There have been so many deaths. Cows, chickens, horses. When will it be the children? When will there be more like Sinding sending them to Sovngarde?” she knew better than to reply to that, and simply waited him out. 

“In the hills above town!” a wood-elf spoke up, pointing up and away from their current location. “It’s there! Whatever it is, that’s where it goes to rest.”

“How do you know this?” Aelinna asked, her brow furrowing under her helm, though nobody could see it. 

“We tracked it there, followed the paw prints left in the dust and the mud after it made off with about five chickens a few days ago,” the elf continued, and she nodded. That made sense, most farmers in Skyrim were fair trackers with all the creatures trying to steal everything these days. Whatever was going on, the citizens of Falkreath had wisely decided it was better to call in the Companions, and thus her, to take care of this problem instead of trying to handle it themselves.

“I will take care of this,” she said solemnly, and the crowd thanked her profusely before wandering off to resume their daily duties. Clenching her jaw for a moment, she rolled her shoulders in her armor before looking up at the location she needed to go to now. ‘No time like the present,’ she mused, and set off on the road leading out of town so she could head up into the hills. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It didn’t take too long for her to get up there, and she traversed the uneven terrain easily with Vilkas at her heels. While she wasn’t that great of a tracker, there was enough evidence for her to go on as she made her way higher and higher in elevation. Bits of feather here, tufts of fur there. Something had definitely come through here, and somewhat recently.

As she made her way carefully along, her attention was so focused on the ground she didn’t hear Vilkas crouch and draw his bow. “Careful now. There’s trouble up ahead,” he muttered, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Looking up from where she had been studying a definite paw print in the mud, she scanned the rocks for whatever he had spotted. 

Aelinna also crouched, pulling her bow off her back and holding it carefully in her left hand. It gleamed with an eerie purple glow in the sunlight, as it was enchanted with the soul trap ability and was synced to the soul gems she carried in a pouch on her hip. Seeing nothing at first, she opened her mouth to ask what he had seen before spying movement up ahead.

Narrowing her eyes, she waited while trying to discern what it was. When it moved again, she was able to determine that there was in fact a werewolf. Carefully pulling an arrow out of her quiver, she slid it onto her bow and pulled back on the drawstring. Waiting, watching, she tracked it as it moved around a little, clearly a scout. 

When she got her opportunity, she let the arrow fly and watched it sail towards her target. A sudden flash of light and a trail of magic flowing into her pouch let her know that she had hit and killed the creature, and she notched her next shot. After several minutes without the appearance of anything else, she lowered her bow and slacked on the drawstring, then put the arrow and bow away.

Vilkas did the same, his eyes scanning everything with a cautious look on his face. Werewolves occasionally traveled in packs, and the dead one may not have been alone. Aelinna crept forward then, making nearly no noise in the grass as she approached her kill. Silently retrieving her arrow and some gold from the body, she put the arrow into her quiver and the septims into her other pouch. 

Wordlessly they continued forwards towards a clearing, and Aelinna decided that it must have been alone, and stood up. She took three strides in before they attacked. Crying out in alarm, she drew her short sword and channeled magic into her left hand, fighting for her life from three werewolves.

Vilkas drew Wuuthrad from his back and charged into the fray, his eyes snapping anger as he channeled his need to protect the Harbinger. “You’ll never leave Skyrim alive!” he shouted, swinging expertly at the snarling faces of their enemies. It was a hard battle, and Aelinna managed to kill one of the wolves, and with the help of her follower took down the other two.

Panting, she pulled a health potion out of her pouch and pulled the cork out with her teeth, spitting it away and gulping the contents greedily. The flash of warmth through her restored her vigor, and she tossed a couple to Vilkas, who immediately drank one himself. Now that she could move around without gasping and her wounds healed, she collected gold from the bodies.

Vilkas nudged one with his boot, looking confused. “I don’t know these wolves,” he said, glancing at the others. “These must be feral wolves, not from our pack.” Aelinna nodded, looking around and seeing the carcasses of the chickens. 

“We have a problem,” she said at length, and he looked over at her while sheathing Wuuthrad on his back. “Packs generally have a leader, and I don’t see one here.”

“You’re right,” he replied, looking around himself. “It must be hunting, whether for food or more victims is hard to say.” Aelinna clenched her jaw, worry beginning to edge its way up her spine. If the village hadn’t lost any lives, and four werewolves here were dead, then where was the leader? 

Aelinna turned in a slow circle, until she spotted a pathway. Moving over to it, she followed it with her eyes until she noted that it went back to the main road. Following that with her eyes, she gulped as she realized the road headed in one direction: home. “Shit,” she swore, and Vilkas uttered a curse in his own tongue as he also realized what this meant. 

“If we hurry, we may make it in time,” he said quickly, gesturing towards the road.

“It’s faster on our horses,” she shot back, her gaze not leaving the crest of the small hill that dipped towards the direction of Lakeview Manor. 

“There may not be time to get the horses,” he countered, and she knew that he was right. With that she broke into a jog, her bow slapping against her back as she tried to move as fast and as efficiently as possible. Time was not on their side, as she had no idea how much of a head start the alpha wolf had on her.

‘Lucia, hold on, I’m coming,’ she thought to herself as she moved, Vilkas keeping up with her easily since she wasn’t running. It was a tense several minutes as they traveled up the road, passing under the bridge that normally held bandits but was currently empty as she had killed them recently enough that others had yet to take up their spots. 

As they approached the path leading to Lakeview Manor, the sound of ringing steel and cries of pain spurred her into a run. Flying over the last bit of distance, she already had her sword drawn as she charged in without thinking. Rayya was fighting two werewolves at once, and one of them was distinctly bigger than the other. As she killed the smaller one, the steward barely had time to register the return of her Thane before Aelinna slammed into the leader, yelling unintelligibly with an armored man hot on her heels, a large axe held in both of his hands.

Rayya retreated indoors with her weapon in her hand, looking to protect the home and Lucia as well. The child was on the stairs clasping a small skyforge steel dagger, but the battle was very much outdoors only. The muffled yells and yelps of pain could be heard through the wooden door, and it was hard to say from inside who was winning.

Meanwhile, Aelinna was in the fight for her life. She was tired, but managed an unrelenting shout to stagger the leader of the werewolf pack. He was fast though, and swiped at her with his claws. The armor protected her from most of the impact, but it still hurt nonetheless. Staggering backwards from a particularly brutal blow, she went down onto a knee while Vilkas took over for her.

She slipped out a couple health potions and downed them, immediately feeling a lot better. As a precaution she took a third one, then stood up and assessed the situation. Vilkas stumbled back as the werewolf cuffed his head, and she charged in to cover his back. Summoning the magic to her left hand, she cast healing hands on him, feeling the magic leave her body quickly. 

With that she re-adjusted her spells, and continued in her mission to take down this beast before it got inside and hurt Rayya, or worse, Lucia. Finally, just when she thought the werewolf was going to take her down, she struck the killing blow in the beast’s heart and it died with a bloody howl. Sheathing her sword, Aelinna panted heavily while trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly feeling like she couldn’t breathe, she yanked her helmet off of her head and tossed it onto the ground, her midnight hair spilling down to pool around her waist while she grumbled and swore. It took what felt like a long time before she could get her pulse under control, and she slumped onto the grass. 

Looking around, she noted that the cow had run off, and the chickens were loose. She didn’t see anything dead aside from the werewolves though, which was good. At least she had made it back in time, and nobody seemed to be hurt. With that she flopped onto her back, the shade from a nearby tree protecting her golden eyes from the sun as she rested. 

“That was some battle,” Vilkas commented as he lay down beside her, puffing while trying to get comfortable with heavy armor on. Aelinna made a noise of agreement, not wanting to move. She heard the sound of Rayya calling the cow back, then heard Lucia as she chased the chickens. Too tired to tell her daughter to go do her chores now that she was safe, the DragonBorn elected to stay right where she was for a while. 

Laying in the shade on a beautiful sunny day, with a breeze kissing her cheeks and cooling the sweat on her brow, Aelinna found herself relaxing to the point that she fell asleep where she was. Rayya kept Lucia away, having the girl do her outside chores before shooing her indoors. When she tried to protest at the door, the steward pointed to the sleeping Thane before crossing her arms. Lucia went inside without any further protest, and after checking on the smelter Rayya joined her. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Hours passed by peacefully, and eventually Aelinna woke up. Disoriented at first, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The sensation of leather on her eyelids as well as the cow lowing at her from his pen grounded her, and she realized she was at home, outside on the grass. ‘Must have fallen asleep where I was,’ she thought to herself, a rueful grin crossing her face. 

The battle had really taken it out of her, along with all the running instead of being on her beloved mare. She knew that had she gone after her horse though, she wouldn’t have made it home in time to protect her family, and who knows what might have happened then. It was after several moments she realized she was too warm, and she felt her forehead. Deciding it was because she had taken a nap in her armor, she headed inside to change. 

Stomping up the stairs, she barely noticed her daughter sweeping by the fireplace as she headed into her room. Pulling her armor off, she stripped down to her shift, then pulled on a simple mage robe from the wardrobe and tied a belt into place. It was too hot to wear any armor, and she would have to clean her elven set anyways. 

Realizing that she may have contracted something from the werewolf leader, she went to her cupboard and pulled out a potion of cure disease. Popping the cork out she drank it quickly, hoping to prevent another transformation. Waiting several minutes, Aelinna decided she was simply hot then, and decided she was going to go swimming in the lake to cool off. 

Of course, she didn’t know that she wasn’t the only one who had that idea on a hot summer day. Nor did she know that he had gone ahead of her, having been woken up by the sound of the front door closing and realizing he was sweating his face off. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she grabbed some cloth to use as a towel and headed back outside to head down to the lake and enjoy some much-needed respite. 

As she made her way down past the necromancer’s circle, with a skeleton flat on its back where she had killed one, she smiled as she thought of how good the water was going to feel on her overheated skin. Since she had changed into mage robes she was already feeling cooler than when she had had her armor on, but nothing short of a swim was going to make her better at this point. 

Once she got to her favorite spot, she kicked her shoes off and carried them over to a rock and peeled off her robes, then her leggings and her linen shift. Standing there, clad in only sunshine, she failed to see the armor gleaming nearby as it lay on the grass next to gauntlets, bracers, boots, a bow, and Wuuthrad. 

She also didn’t notice the leggings, or the hide underwear sitting next to it. Completely at ease, Aelinna hummed a little tune to herself as she turned back to the water, striding in until she was waist deep and then diving under. Popping back up to the surface after a few moments, she flipped her hair out of her eyes, laughing joyously before swimming around for a little while. 

Of course, since she wasn’t expecting anyone, friend or foe, she didn’t realize she had an audience. Hungry eyes devoured glimpses of her skin as she moved, but there was nothing to give away that she wasn’t alone in the huge lake. They lingered on her curves, and the way her hair slicked against her back as she climbed onto a rock then dove beneath the surface.

He cursed himself for having never noticed before. He’d only ever thought of her as his shield-sister first, then the Harbinger later. Now though, now everything was different as he acknowledged her fully as a nord woman. Inwardly thankful for his self control, there was nothing about him to suggest that his thoughts had turned racy, flitting images of slippery entwined limbs in his mind taunting him.

There was no excess weight on her body, she was lithe and pure, graceful muscle while she repeated the climbing and jumping into the water. From this distance the scars that littered her body couldn’t be seen, and he admired what he saw. She was beautiful, truly beautiful. He also admired the way the DragonBorn moved in combat, fast and deadly even though she could use more training to fine-tune her abilities.

Vilkas treaded water a little longer before shifting up the bank until he could stand without being in danger of drowning. He was a little ways upstream from her, and as droplets began making their way down his hairy chest and belly back to the lake, he realized now that unless she was single he had to completely ignore something like this.

No matter how tantalizing she was. Turning away from her as he belatedly realized he’d been staring, he looked down at his reflection as the sun beat down and turned the water into a silver mirror. His face rippled back at him, and he took in his short brown hair and piercing eyes. For a long time he’d felt that they were too bright in his face with the markings of someone who hadn’t slept in years on his features, hidden a little by the paint that crept into micro lines around his eyes and creating an intimidating effect.

His twin brother Farkas had copied the markings, though he had grown his hair out so that it touched his shoulders. He had also trained hard to wield heavy two-handed weapons, so he was bigger in stature than Vilkas. His slimmer frame had been useful for archery, as well as proving that his enemies often underestimated him in a fight while showing his mastery of two-handed weapons. 

Deciding that he wasn’t too terrible looking, he brought his head back up and noted that the DragonBorn was now gone. Taking this as an opportunity, he swam out into the water then lazily went over to where he had gone in, then began striding towards the banks. Of course, he spotted her there, back turned to him as she finished tying a belt around her waist over a pair of robes. 

The sound of the water splashing got Aelinna’s attention, and she turned to see what was making the noise as she’d been sure she was alone out here. There no mudcrab on this side of the lake, deer usually didn’t come by during the day and there definitely wasn’t a dragon coming to make her lunch.

It took her a few seconds to realize she was staring at Vilkas, who walked towards her confidently. Her eyes traveled down the line of hair that led from his chest to his belly, and right about when she noticed she could see a great deal of his hips, she whipped back around, cheeks flaming red as she blushed hotly. 

He smirked when he noted that while she hadn’t seen all of him, it had come close enough that she shielded her gaze from his naked body. Barely suppressing a chuckle, he went over to his armor while rivulets ran down his legs and tickled him a little bit. Grabbing his leggings, he rubbed them lazily over his lower body then pulled them on.

Aelinna only dared to look after she felt that her face wasn’t going to burst into flames from embarrassment, and saw him standing a few feet away, clad only in leggings. Her mind processed that last bit, and then realized that was accurate. Only. In. Leggings. He was holding the underwear and shirt in one hand, along with his boots and bracers, and the armor, gloves, and gauntlets in the other.

Wuuthrad was hanging lazily from his back, secured by a simple leather strap. As their eyes locked, silver mingling with gold, Aelinna blushed again and looked away quickly, taking off towards the house with a speed that said she was running away from him. This time he didn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips, and went off in search of the steward he had seen earlier to see about a place to sleep and cleaning for his armor.


	3. Fighter

Aelinna didn’t sleep very well. While her house had expanded bedrooms so that there were more than three beds, the knowledge that Vilkas spend the night under her roof was unsettling. Of course, he stayed in the west wing with Rayya, so he wasn’t that close to her as she slept in the master bedroom in the back of the house just past Lucia’s room, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was her dreams kept going back to the lake, kept seeing him shirtless in the water, striding towards her while the words _I can breathe more deeply now. I can’t smell your heart beating the way I used to. But my mind is… clear_ echoed around them. The meaning of those words continue to elude her, and with her subconscious obsessing on it, she felt like she wasn’t going to get a lot of rest any time soon.

Naturally, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t get much rest, but for slightly different reasons. As Vilkas tossed and turned in the bed he shared near the steward, he became tangled in the blanket while he tried to fight what his own dreams showed him. First he was in his beast form again, fighting battles and battles over and over when all he wanted to do was sleep.

Then he was his human self, and though he couldn’t see much, he felt enough in the darkness of his dreams to know. It was warm, the scent of candle smoke filling his nose while he grasped at arms, legs, a midriff. These were the dreams that tormented him most, and once he bolted upright in bed, panting while shaking the half-formed fantasies from his mind. 

Rayya remained asleep, safe in the other bed and unaware the impromptu guest was struggling to get any slumber. Vilkas groaned as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her, grabbing his forehead and wishing that his mind would stop trying to get him in heaps of trouble. That was easier said than done, especially when it was apparent certain things had surfaced. 

Vilkas was very very grateful that the steward hadn’t woken up when he did, as he glanced down at the blanket tangled around his waist. Very grateful. With that he climbed out of bed, his bare feet making no noise as he made his way to the front door and slipped outside. The sky was turning from inky black to steel gray, letting him know that dawn was on its way soon. 

Moving amongst the trees, he walked a good ways off from the house, stopping by a glade to relieve his nearly bursting bladder. The cool air helped him in more than one way, and by the time he made it back to the manor he was once more in control of himself. As he returned indoors, Vilkas paused to take in his surroundings.

While he no longer had the heightened senses he did when he was a werewolf, it was still prudent to check and see if anyone or anything had joined the household while he was gone. Not picking up on anything hostile, he then quietly went up the stairs to check on the child. Lucia was fast asleep in her bed, curled up under a blanket.

‘All is well here,’ he thought, then tiptoed into the master bedroom. His eyes fell upon the DragonBorn in her bed, then noted the bow propped on a nearby chair, and the quiver draped over the back of it. ‘Smart.’ There was also an arrow propped on the chair in such a way that it appeared that all she would have to do is grab both and notch the arrow to take down any surprise intruders.

When he turned to walk away she shifted, and he froze in the hopes of avoiding getting caught. Each second that passed felt like hours, and after a couple minutes he looked back to see if he was going to get an arrow to the head and wake up in Sovngarde. Aelinna was still sleeping though, having merely rolled over so that now she was facing him. 

It was that moment that he decided she looked like an angel in her repose, her hair spilling over her pillow and her body completely at ease. Her face was free of worry or determination, and the full lashes trembled against her cheeks as she dreamed. She smiled slightly, causing him to wonder what it was that made her happy. Fiercely he hoped it was him, then he smacked the side of his head in irritation.

The noise caused her to stir slightly, and he inwardly cursed himself to oblivion. Waiting to see if he was going to die again, he noted her settling back down and then he slipped out of the bedroom before he really did interrupt her respite and either get a face full of feathers or the chewing out of a lifetime. 

Soundlessly slipping back into the west wing, he climbed carefully into bed and managed to finally fall asleep. His dreams were normal, his mind letting him get some peace for a time so that he would be in top condition once again. This was a peace that wasn’t going to last though, but not for reasons he would expect.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The sound of horses whinnying woke him up. Confused at first, Vilkas wondered how on Tamriel horses got into Jorrvaskr, before looking down at the bed and remembering that he was not in Whiterun, but in Lakeview Manor instead. With that, he got out of bed and got dressed fairly quickly in his leggings and shirt before slipping on his armor and heading down to find out what was going on.

Neither Rayya nor Lucia were indoors that he could tell, so he went out the front door. Going down the steps, nickering drew his attention off to the left, and he spotted the pair of horses that had been left behind in Falkreath in the stable. Rayya was mining some sort of vein, and while he couldn’t see the child, he could hear some faint humming while she played. 

Striding off to the left, Vilkas rounded a corner of the house and spotted Aelinna several feet away. She was standing in front of a small hut, with bees buzzing around her head while she held something in her hand. He decided to wander closer, curious as to what it was. When she turned to him, he saw no trace of anything hinting to yesterday as she acknowledged his presence with a nod before placing the strange object in a pouch she had hanging from her neck.

“What’s that you got there?” he asked, his eyes on the pouch before looking up at her.

“Honeycomb,” Aelinna replied pleasantly, turning back to the apiary and placing the lid back on while the buzzing became more muted. 

“Honeycomb? You are a beekeeper?” Vilkas inquired, looking surprised at the DragonBorn. 

“On occasion,” she said flippantly, wiping her hands clean on her fine clothing and turning to face him again. “I use honeycomb when making some of my potions,” she added in explanation, tilting her head slightly at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh. I just -- I didn’t expect the DragonBorn to keep bees,” Vilkas stammered, realizing he had put his foot into his mouth. Aelinna laughed then, the sound like little bells made of purest silver, and something that made him feel all sorts of strange emotions. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her laugh before, truly laugh in joy like she was now. Sure, she’d laughed at a few of the Companions’ jokes, but that didn’t sound like what she was doing now.

“I don’t actually keep them, Vilkas,” she teased. “I built the apiary and let the bees tend to themselves. I just harvest honeycomb and the occasional bee for potion making.” Vilkas looked down, ashamed and amused. He was used to Ria or Aela picking on him, but the Harbinger doing it was something else entirely. 

She strode past him then, heading towards the house. “Stay there, I’ll be back out in a few minutes,” she said to him, and he nodded. He remained where he was, near the smelter on his left. As the wind sifted through the trees and ruffled his mahogany hair, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, enjoying the scent of the wild mingled with flowers, animals, and smoke from the fireplace.

Smells were easier to deal with now that he was human again, not overpowering on a nearly constant basis. With his normal nose, he could savor the different notes of trees, grasses, or wood smokes from fires, instead of wanting to claw his face off or go on the hunt for prey. It definitely made a great deal of his life a lot easier, especially since he could truly sleep again. When his mind wasn’t tormenting him, that is. 

Aelinna rounded the corner then, interrupting his thoughts on nature when he spotted her. She was clad in carved nordic armor, the helm held casually under one arm as she regarded him. “You ready to head back to Jorrvaskr?” she asked. “As you probably noticed, I already reported in to Falkreath about the werewolves and collected our horses.” 

Vilkas nodded, and she turned around to head to the stable and he followed after her. She led Allie out first, and moved her out of the way so he could get to the cream-colored stallion he had borrowed from the Whiterun stables. As he was bringing the horse out, Lucia ran up to them. “Mama!” she said, in that too-loud volume all children seemed to have.

“Yes dear?” Aelinna asked, ever the patient one with her daughter.

“I got you something! Hope you like it!” Lucia replied, handing her something before running off to resume playing. Aelinna glanced down at the blue dartwing in her palm before slipping it into the pouch on her hip, then turned to inspect the tack before hopping into the saddle. Vilkas copied her, then he touched the stallion forward to stop beside her.

“Does she always give you gifts like that?” he queried, and she nodded.

“Sometimes,” was the reply, then Aelinna flicked the reins of her mount, and the ever-obedient mare jumped forward into a canter in the beginning of the long journey back to Whiterun. Vilkas flicked his own reins, and he mulled several thoughts over as he followed after his leader. It seemed that by agreeing to join her mission to help the citizens of Falkreath, he was learning many things about the Harbinger, as well as himself. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Since they had left in the afternoon, it was nightfall when they came trotting in to Riverwood. Aelinna dismounted in front of the inn, tying Allie to one of the posts and heading inside. Vilkas did the same at another one, then followed inside the entrance to the building. She strode over to the desk, and placed a small pile of gold on the counter. 

“I’d like two rooms for the night, please,” she said tiredly, instead of her usual request. The hours in the saddle had wearied her, and she just wanted to get some sleep in before continuing on to her destination. The innkeeper nodded, moving out from behind the counter and gesturing for them to follow.

“Certainly. Follow me please, I will show you to your rooms,” she said, then began to make her way towards where the rooms were. The innkeeper then opened the doors to one, then the one next to it. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she added, then left them alone. As her footsteps faded away, Vilkas glanced at Aelinna before she moved into the first room and closed the door.

Sighing, he went into his own room and stripped out of his armor before climbing into bed with the intent of getting a good night’s sleep. His mind decided to give him a break, and instead of tossing and turning all night long, he managed to get plenty of rest and recharge his body. When he awoke the next morning a little after dawn, he felt refreshed as he got dressed in his armor then slung Wuuthrad across his back and headed out to the main area of the inn.

Aelinna was there, seated at one of the tables eating breakfast. As he drew closer, he determined she was having bread and some soup. There was a bowl filled with similar food and some bread on a wooden plate at a spot two seats down from her, and he decided that meal must be for him. Sitting down before it, he looked over at her to greet her before tucking in to his food.

“Hail, DragonBorn,” he said softly, and though she didn’t respond to him, she did nod at him which meant that his greeting was accepted. They ate their meals in relative silence, aside from the occasional slurp and the sound of tearing bread into bites to consume. It was companionable quiet, since no one else was up this early they had the inn to themselves, aside from whomever had cooked up their soup and gotten them fresh bread to eat.

When Aelinna was done, she stood up from the table and left a gold piece. Stretching her arms above her head, her armor clinked a little while she loosened up her joints. Picking up her helm from the table where it had been sitting, she placed it on her head then tucked her hair up beneath it; then adjusted her quiver and bow on her back. 

She glanced over at him as he finished off his own bowl, then he slipped a hand into his own pouch and placed a similar gold piece on the table for the innkeeper and stood up. After making sure nothing was tangled on the bench, he rolled his shoulders and felt his mighty axe settle into a comfortable spot on his spine and ensured that it wasn’t going to fall off while he was moving. 

Together they headed out into the growing sunshine, untied their horses and continued on their way, hooves thundering on the ground as they move comfortably but swiftly. Splashing through a few streams, they kept a steady pace, and it was only mid-afternoon when they made it to Whiterun stables and dropped off their mounts. 

Heading up the stairs and through the gates, they made their way up and towards Jorrvaskr without any delays or worries about dragons coming in and mucking the place up. Then again, with Dragonsreach having been built to contain such a beast, it might not be too terrible should one fly in and try to make their lives a living hell. 

Aelinna opening the doors jerked Vilkas out of his thoughts, and he almost didn’t see her crossing the room as he joined her inside. A quick look around showed the others were either outside or off on missions, but that didn’t bother him any. The Companions needed to keep work going, to bring honor to the hall as well as show the Jarl that Kodlak’s death was not the end of things.

The sound of a door closing brought his head up and around, and he deduced that she must have gone out the other side into the courtyard. He went that way himself, popping back outside and noting from all the noise that training was indeed going on. Making his way down the steps, he automatically turned his body left to see who was on the targets today. 

Farkas was easy to spot, his robust frame in armor as always while he watched over recruits smack some dummies with swords and axes while Aela watched over those with bows practicing their archery. He greeted them as he went by, and they both nodded to him as he made his way up to the skyforge, his steps confident as he caught up to Aelinna at the top just before she got Eorlund Grey-Mane’s attention. 

“Ah, so you’re back,” he said as he turned to them, setting down the two-handed sword he was in the middle of making. The pair nodded, and Eorlund looked at them expectantly. Clearly he was waiting for a report, so the DragonBorn spoke up before he could. 

“It was a pack of rogue werewolves. Vilkas and I eliminated them before they could harm any of the villagers,” she said, keeping it short and succinct. “If they were rabid, then the only ones who could have contracted it were the animals they killed and ate.”

Eorlund nodded, clearly pleased. “My thanks for taking care of the problem and keeping it discreet,” he said, then handed them both coin pouches which they both stashed away on their bodies. “That’ll be all.” with that he turned back to his work, dismissing them without any further preamble. 

Aelinna took the hint and turned around to go back down, and Vilkas turned to follow her. They made their way down the steps, and back to the practice arena. Ria called out to Vilkas, asking for more training with the two-handed sword, and he happily obliged her. Everything seemed like it was back to normal now, though everyone was completely unaware that the Harbinger was troubled.

She made her way inside Jorrvaskr, then headed over to the stairs that led down to the living quarters and passed through the door. Nearly bumping into Athis who was on the way out, she ducked out of the way as he greeted her warmly before heading to the main hall to do whatever. Managing to avoid anyone else in her path, she followed the red carpet to the right and down to the end, to the rooms of the Harbinger.

Closing the doors behind her, a rare motion since generally during the day the doors to all the rooms were open in case someone needed something, she went over and sat down on the edge of the bed, resting her chin in her gloved hands. Her thoughts were on the man outside drilling the recruits, but here alone in her room, she was safe to examine her mind and her feelings. 

Mostly it was about her dreams, those words that now intruded on her waking moments as well as her sleeping ones. What did he mean by that? Logically she knew that in the literal sense werewolves could detect life by the sound and smell of another’s heart, especially since she had encountered that herself while under the fang, but the other words were harder to parse out.

Was his mind clouded while he was a werewolf? She remembered him saying he had been clouded by grief and felt unworthy to join her in the last part of Ysgramor’s tomb, before they had returned to cure him, but that was different. He’d been clouded by his emotions then, the desire to fulfill Kodlak’s final wish while also being driven by the need to avenge him. 

Over and over she tried to suss out a conclusion, but aside from the most literal sense she couldn’t come to one. Normally she would have dismissed it as a totality, but from someone so eloquent and well-spoken, those words had definitely meant something. She just couldn’t figure out what short of asking him. And that just seemed like it would be incredibly awkward.

Aelinna cringed as she imagined herself going up to Vilkas in private and going, 'hey you remember that weird ass declaration you made after being cured of lycanthropy? What did you mean by that?' and muttered the words "stupid, stupid, stupid," to herself while smacking her right temple with her glove. 

“What’s stupid?” came a voice from her doorway. Aelinna looked up in surprise, then leapt to her feet from startlement. Her hand was halfway to her blade before she realized that Njada Stonearm was standing there, arms raised to show that she meant no harm to the Harbinger. As Aelinna visibly relaxed, lowering her hand from her sheath and shifting into a more normal position, she looked a little sheepishly at her fellow Companion. 

“Sorry, you startled me,” she said to Njada, who nodded. 

“I should have announced myself before speaking up, Harbinger,” she replied, unperturbed that she had nearly gotten a throat full of steel a moment ago. The Companions were no stranger to death, and generally had the opinion that dying at the hand of a shield-sibling was better than dying dishonorably in a battle. 

Aelinna gave the little head bob that conveyed, ‘yeah, you should have, but no harm done,’ in response to that, and Njada shrugged. She then straightened a bit, looking the other woman in the eye. “What brings you to my chambers?” she asked, getting straight to the point since she was rarely disturbed in this room. Especially with the door closed, indicating a want for privacy.

Njada looked away, not wanting to provoke the former wolf-maiden. “Brill has asked for you. Something about trouble in the main hall,” she said, her words a little muffled as she lowered her head in a subconscious manner to convey she was neither challenging nor trying to pick a fight. This confused Aelinna for a moment, before remembering that only Aela was aware that her, Farkas, and Vilkas had cured themselves. 

Then she was more confused since no one outside of the circle had known about the werewolves, aside from Eorlund, but as she thought about it rapidly, she realized that all of the established Companions had acted as though they knew, but not consciously. She was willing to live with that though, it meant less brawls in the hall when they were bored.

Aelinna stepped out of her room without replying, closing the door behind her as she strode swiftly towards the main doors, her demeanor showing everyone she passed that the Harbinger of the Companions was not messing around, and that if there was trouble, she would handle it swiftly before anything else happened.

Njada promptly made herself scarce in the wake of the Harbinger’s passage, and the few who were below copied her. They all knew better than to provoke her, while she was not their actual leader, they had a tendency to defer to her like she was and sought to also keep from pissing her off as often as possible. 

The doors had scarcely closed behind Aelinna when she heard shouting. Trotting up the stairs, she rounded the corner and caught sight of several Companions staring at a dark elf standing just inside the main entrance, and at least two had drawn their weapons. Everyone’s attention was on the male elf, who’s own hands seemed to be reaching for a sword and shield. 

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, her tone nearly threatening. Through the magic of being DragonBorn her words cut through the crowd, effectively silencing them as if she had shouted. All but the two who had drawn steel turned to look at her, then away from the lightning snapping within her eyes. 

Brill was not deterred, staring the elf down while choosing to reply to her. “This runt comes in, saying he wants to challenge the Thane of Whiterun,” he explained, his voice full of hostility. He gripped his weapon tighter, shifting forward slightly to convey how badly he wanted to attack the man. 

“Then let him.”

All of the Companions turned at that, staring at her incredulously. The three leaders, Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas had joined them, weapons sheathed but body language saying they weren’t afraid of a fight to defend the hall, also turned to look at her after her statement. “But -- Harbinger,” Brill began, and she motioned with her hand in a downward chopping motion, cutting him off.

“Let us go outside, challenger, and see what you’re made of,” she said to the elf. “No weapons, no magic. Just fists, until one of us can’t take any more.” He nodded his agreement to her stipulations, and then everyone went outside into the courtyard. This was something that definitely didn’t happen every day, and a few of the new bloods were aching for the opportunity to see the Harbinger in combat. 

As they descended the stone steps, the Companions formed a half circle to block off Jorrvaskr while also providing room to the combatants. Aelinna unstrapped her sheath, handing the blade to Aela, who solemnly placed it on the table behind her. She handed her quiver and her bow to Farkas, who accepted them without words to hold onto for her. 

With that she turned around, facing the dark elf in the torchlight. His gray skin was offset by his red hair and brows, but she didn’t recognize him. It was probably just an adventurer hoping to make a name for himself, and she would gladly put him in his place where he belonged. She raised her fists, ready to begin.


	4. Troubled

They eyed each other warily, each wondering who was going to strike the first blow. Aelinna slowly circled, sizing up his form as he did the same, clearly not wanting her to get behind him and get a distinct advantage right away. The Companions were quiet, but the air was electrified with the combined tension of this brawl. 

Just as she took another step to rotate the circle he swung, and she merely tilted her body out of the way to dodge his fist. Like a viper, she took full advantage of him throwing his body forward and swung her own fist at him, connecting with his face and splitting his lip open. She danced back as he swung twice more, one of them connecting with her shoulder and sending a dull ache into the joint beneath her armor.

That was going to need looking at later, she decided, before shifting her attention back to the manner at hand. He swung again, fast with both arms. She ducked one but took the other to her stomach, and she grunted from the impact. Swinging high on the way up, she connected with his jaw and sent him staggering before connecting her other fist into his abdomen. 

“Oof,” fell from his lips, and she saw the anger in his eyes. He backed up a step, wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting. Aelinna waited with her fists raised, watching to see what he was going to do next. He came at her with a yell, and she blocked a few of his blows, but took a few others. She shoved him back with her own flurry, sending fists to whatever she could reach.

She began to pant from the exertion, but the fight wasn’t over until one of them surrendered. She had no intention of losing to this man, challenge or not. The best way to maintain her level of status with the Companions was to showcase her skills like this, and winning meant she would remain without question the Harbinger and worthy of the respect of all. 

As he stumbled from the particularly hard punch to his chest, she followed up with several shots to his face, stepping forwards while he went back. He was throwing wildly and hitting her now unguarded body, as she clenched her jaw and took the blows while she went in for the kill. The elf managed a lucky shot to her left eye, and pain blossomed in her skull. 

Growling at him in response, she charged ahead, trading blows with him back and forth, faster and faster while blood flew through the air from their bodies. She could see him weakening under her onset, and pushed it. She didn’t care about the fists striking her breastplate, her kidneys, her belly. The fight had numbed most of it out, and the impending victory narrowed her senses. 

Somewhat aware that many of the Companions were now either shouting encouragement or derision as they watched the battle unfold, she elected to ignore them in the face of her opponent wheeling before her. It was obvious to her that he was nearly done, and she fully intended to drive the point home that she was the superior fighter here. 

Aelinna swung more rapidly, pushing herself to the limit as she rained down blows on the dark elf’s body, and soon enough he went down onto a knee, panting, signalling his defeat. She backed up and lowered her fists, trying to catch her breath again. Blood ran from her mouth, and her eye was beginning to swell shut. At least she had won though, which was the more important thing.

Pulling a couple health potions from her pouch she opened and drank them, then drank a healing potion and felt her face go back to normal. Can’t go around looking like she had just gotten into a fight, no matter how true it might be. She had just put the empty bottles away when the elf stood up, his face covered in cuts and blood while he panted. 

“You put up a good fight,” she said to him politely, and he scowled at her. Making it clear that their brawl was now over, she turned away from him and strode over to the table where her sword waited, and began strapping it back to her waist so that it hung from her hip. Reaching for her quiver, Farkas handed it to her and she put it on her back. 

Just as she reached for her bow a cry of alarm went out, and in the middle of turning she saw the elf charging at her with a dagger raised, plainly trying to kill her. Without thought she flipped around towards him, drawing her bow with an arrow notched in one fluid motion. She pulled back as far as the drawstring would let her, then let the arrow fly as he came within a few steps of her.

The glass arrow found its mark, slamming into his chest and puncturing his heart. He fell back on the ground, dead. Energy flowed from him to her pouch containing her soul gems, letting her know that she had captured his soul. In the aftermath she pulled out The Black Star, the ebony gem glittering in the moonlight as she touched it to her bow and refreshed the enchantment on it. 

Putting the gem away, Aelinna turned and went back inside Jorrvaskr before anyone else could react to what had just happened. Her mind was quiet as she made her way back towards the stairs leading down to the living quarters, and managed not to be accosted while she headed back to her chambers.

Whatever was happening now, she didn’t care. It had been defensive, but she had never killed a person inside city limits before and Aelinna wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen now. It was possible one of the Companions was on their way to fetch a guard, and she would either have to pay a fine or go before Jarl Balgruuf to explain what she had done and why. 

Of course, she didn’t know that none of them were fetching a guard, seeing as they had all seen the elf trying to attack their Harbinger from behind while her guard was down. They decided between themselves that involving any outside forces was unnecessary, and they would simply report his body to the guards when there was ample chance to do so. 

Aelinna just sat on her bed, mulling over what had happened. Slowly stripping off her gloves, she then pulled off her gauntlets. Then her helmet, armor, boots, bracers, waist piece. All the pieces were set down nearby, and her bow with an arrow at the ready went next to the bed. Sitting back on the bedspread, she pulled off her footwraps but left her shift and leggings on. 

Her fate was just going to have to wait until tomorrow, seeing as she was tired. Climbing beneath the covers, she settled down and fell into a quick and dreamless sleep, though her conscience was being prickly with her. There was nothing that could be done about it right now though, so might as well get some rest. 

At the other end of the quarters, Aela the Huntress stood inside a room with the twins. Her arms were folded, and underneath the paint striping her face her expression was troubled. Farkas stared back at her, leaning against the wall while waiting to see why she had called them in to talk. Whatever it was, it was important. 

Her gray eyes were filled with concern, and she checked more than once that the door to the room was closed and they had complete privacy. Farkas made a gesture of impatience that said she should get on with it, and she sucked in a breath before speaking. “Have either of you noticed anything odd, lately?” she asked, her words slow in her effort to not imply anything untoward with the Harbinger. 

“Odd about what?” Farkas asked, eyeing his shield-sister with a bit of suspicion. While rumors were circulating about her and Skjor and whether or not they were together before his death, he was also wondering what she may be implying. He didn’t like where this was going, and he may end up punching his shield-sister in the face to protect the Harbinger’s honor. 

Aela grimaced, realizing that he was starting to gear himself up for punching her in the nose. “I mean odd about the hall, new recruits acting strangely,” she amended quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from a fight that the hot-tempered man would be willing to pick. When his expression changed to thoughtful she inwardly sighed in relief, glad that he was willing to consider this angle. 

“Not that I know of,” he replied, his tone gruff as usual while he looked over at his brother, who was sitting in a chair and examining the floor between his boots. “You, Vilkas?” he asked, wondering why his twin was starting at the ground so intently. 

“Not I,” he replied, not really paying attention to what was going on at the moment. Aela turned to face the errant twin, tightening her arms against her chest. Her face shifted into irritation.

“Do you know something we don’t?” she accused, causing Farkas to get up and stare her down, as he was very protective of his brother and showed that she should back off before she had her face rearranged. 

Vilkas looked up at her, his silver eyes catching the light and causing them to gleam against his skin. “No, I don’t,” he said firmly, and his tone brooked no argument. A tense few seconds passed before she looked away from him, and he resumed studying the floor. 

“What are you getting at, Aela?” Farkas demanded, leaning back again now that she wasn’t trying to pick a fight with his brother. 

“It just seems odd that someone would come into Jorrvaskr, announce they want to fight the Thane of Whiterun, and then try to kill her from behind after losing an honorable fight,” she said, looking troubled. “So I was wondering if either of you had noticed something with the recruits.” Farkas sat back, conceding the point.

Vilkas thought that over, but still wasn’t raising his head to face her. While she did have a good point about the now dead outsider, his mind was elsewhere and he was completely distracted. “Is there something more important, Vilkas?” the icy tone got his attention, and he looked up at his stormy shield-sister. She glowered at him, staring daggers with her eyes in her displeasure at him not paying attention to an important manner. 

He stared her down, and watched the inward struggle of her wolf trying to rise to the bait while she battled it back. It would be suicide to transform in the halls, and was also somewhat forbidden. While he didn’t like tempting her beast, it was a matter of principle that her tone was not appreciated with him. The leaders were a round table of control, not a pyramid like with the Jarls. 

After several moments she clenched her jaw and looked away, and he observed a vein standing out in her neck as the wolf was wrestled back down into complete control. It stung her pride that he had non-verbally challenged her and won, but her attitude was not necessary with him. Yes, he was distracted, but he was still listening to her speak.

“What’s important is that you get to the point, Aela,” he said curtly, his accent getting a little thicker in his irritation. A very subtle flinch told him that the point struck home, and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He brushed the emotions aside, wanting to find out what she was going on about just as much as his brother did. 

“I merely wondered if perhaps there were spies within our ranks, someone reporting to less savory individuals about our Harbinger,” she replied testily, not backing down verbally but conceding to the former wolf. Farkas snorted, but Vilkas considered this line of thought. It would make sense, if it was true, but it was equally possible the elf had just been some random upstart looking to make a name for himself as fast as possible. 

“Not likely,” Farkas chimed in, folding his arms across his own chest. “The only new recruits so far have been from Whiterun, and the Harbinger’s face implied she didn’t know the elf.”

“What about that khajiit we dismissed?” Aela asked, and Farkas frowned. “Do we know where he hailed from?”

“No, but I hadn’t had the chance to ask before I put him in his place,” he said, and his expression darkened as he considered the implications of this. It was possible, likely even, that the elf had been a sell-sword hired to take out the Harbinger as revenge for being hit by the thu’um and escorted out for being dishonorable. 

“There is something else that we haven’t considered,” Vilkas said, drawing their attention to him. “That elf may have been part of the Dark Brotherhood, an assassin sent to kill by whatever means necessary.” Aela went pale while Farkas glowered, his face full of fury and hate.

“Well, if he was, then they will be glad to be rid of such a weak member,” Aela responded, lamely trying to soften the implication. This was definitely something serious if it turned out to be the case, and the last remaining members of the circle all agreed that if they could do so, they would try to find out more information. 

“Should we tell the Harbinger about this?” Farkas asked eventually, as the little meeting drew to a close. 

“No. She has enough to deal with right now,” Aela said, and the twins nodded. “We should go and get some sleep before she gets up anyways.” With that, they left the room they had been holed up in for the last hour or so and retired to their respective rooms for the night. Each of them hoped that the dead elf had been only a minor nuisance, and not something more serious. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The next day, only one person noticed when the Harbinger barely ate her food. That she had bags under her eyes, almost like she had gone back to being a wolf. Or that her greetings were lackluster, and that she mostly ignored the conversations going on around her as she played with the bite of salmon steak on her plate instead of consuming it. 

Sitting down next to her, Vilkas leaned in close, but not enough to start up the rumor mill. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, ensuring that no one else heard him speak. Aelinna glanced at him, but looked away without replying. Concern furrowed his brow, and he looked at the back of her midnight head. “Aelinna,” he murmured, the word barely audible to his own ears. 

She looked at him then, her golden eyes shadowed and almost seemed haunted. “Is something wrong?” the gentleness of his tone brought an expression to her face that he could not name right away, but instead of speaking, she shook her head at him. Frowning, he looked away from her and grabbed an apple to chew on. 

Her gaze lingered on the hand he had on the table, and while he could see this out of the corner of his eye, he chose not to comment on it. Whatever it was that bothered her, it seemed obvious that she would either tell him or not in her own time. Pressing the issue would do no good, so he resigned himself to eating breakfast before going outside and running more drills. 

She sat there, burning next to him. While she may not have consciously dreamed the night before, those damned words were in her mind when she woke up. This was getting seriously old, and she gritted her teeth and made up her mind. She was going to find out what he meant, Ysmir damn it. 

“Do you remember the declaration you made to me after I cured you?” she asked suddenly, and he nodded quickly while reaching for a tankard of wine. “What did you mean by that?” Vilkas inhaled while drinking, choked, and began coughing. His eyes watered and he thumped his chest, earning the laughter of Farkas, Brill, and Athis, whom all thought he had tried to drink something stronger than his usual imbibery. 

“Not here,” he hissed, when he could breathe properly again. Aelinna arched an eyebrow at that, then popped a bite of salmon into her mouth. “Meet me at the underforge, later.” She nodded, with a dubious look on her face as she perked up at the possibility of having a conclusion to the madness that had been plaguing her. 

Managing to eat a decent amount of food, she waited for him to leave first, then engaged in idle conversation with Njada Stonearm for a little while. When the room began emptying out for either training or missions, Aelinna stood up from the table then went out into the courtyard. Slipping past first Aela, who was sitting on the ground examining a blade, then Farkas who was busy helping a greenhorn with some weapon work, she made her way to the underforge without anyone seeing her go. 

The sound of the stone door sliding back into place almost seemed eerie, but this place was secure and there was no fear of someone suddenly coming in at an inopportune moment. Vilkas was waiting for her, standing beside the basin with his hand resting on the edge of it. His eyes glinted in the source-less light, and she suddenly became nervous. 

“It seems a lifetime ago, now, when I first took the wolf blood,” he began. “I was raised here in Jorrvaskr, and neither my brother nor I knew anything else. After I joined the Companions, I heard the whispers on occasion that Kodlak and the circle were different than the others, and when Farkas and I joined them, we learned the truth.” Looking away for a moment, he collected himself and continued with his explanation. 

“We may have been some of the youngest to join, but after I became moon born, the hunt was all I knew. It consumed my every thought, my every action. Transforming was agony, but the hunt seemed like skooma. It was never enough. Kodlak came to me and suggested that I resist turning, to be the man rather than the beast. It was a battle, one I fought for years while the beast tried to get out.”

Aelinna watched him as he paused to take a breath, knowing that the crux of it all was coming shortly, and she would have her answers to her question. Her hands shook slightly though, as she could tell that Vilkas was not used to opening up like this, and if he’d still been a werewolf he may have attacked her from being in such a state of vulnerability. 

With that she dropped her eyes, trying to give him space although the beast no longer lived inside him. She braced herself for his next words though, and it felt like the air around them was becoming charged with energy, although she couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was from the volatile emotions flowing throughout the room. 

“I could smell the heartbeat of every living thing, and those that seemed weak spurred on my lust for the hunt. If it wasn’t for my self-control through years of training, I may have done something I’d deeply regret.” He looked down at the ground, inhaled, then barrelled onward. “My mind became clouded and it was harder to think. Kodlak had me train the newer recruits to hone my skills, and the extra focus helped me regain my faculties. It took time, but I was able to think normally again, send out missions with tactical skill instead of blind luck.”

“When you slayed the beast spirit that had dwelt within me for so long, my mind became free of the burden it had to bear, juggling beast and man. The urge to hunt was no longer with me, and I could finally breathe without worry of losing control for even an instant. You saved me, and by Ysmir’s beard when I die I shall rest with honor in Sovngarde like those who have gone before me.” His speech finished, Vilkas gripped the edge of the basin tightly while he waited for the Harbinger’s reaction. 

Aelinna didn’t say anything for a time as she absorbed the impact and meaning of his words. It seemed that her conclusion of being literal was partially right, but hearing his pain and suffering while being a werewolf for years, if not decades, caused her heart to ache and she sympathized with him. She’d been a beast for only a few months before getting cured, she couldn’t imagine living with it for as long as he had. 

The man had admirable strength, she had to give him that. And excellent control, to boot. This caused her to see her shield-brother in a new light, as he was someone who had walked through the fires of hell and come through tempered like the finest skyforge steel, shining against his enemies in a true testament of character. Instead of being ruled by the wolf in his heart, he had fought back and won his humanity as a result. 

Her face softened as she regarded him, and he looked away, embarrassed. There was a faint tinge of red to his cheeks, but Aelinna was wise enough not to comment on it. The respect she had for him grew in that moment, but there was also the issue of their encounter at the lake, and even dwelling on that little bit made her feel bashful. 

“Thank you,” she said finally, after a pregnant pause. He looked back at her, surprise on his face.

“For what?” he asked, curious.

“For telling me.”

“Ah. You’re welcome, then,” he mumbled, and with that she turned away from him to head back outside. She paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder. 

“I need to head back home, to check on Lucia. You’re welcome to come along, if you like,” she offered, her tone innocent of anything that implied that wasn’t what she meant. “I should be there for a couple days before I travel again, perhaps to Solitude as I own land near there.” 

“You own land near Solitude?” he questioned, surprised again. 

“Yes. I own Windstad Manor in the Hjaalmarch hold,” she replied, humor coloring her words. He mouthed ‘oh’ in response to that, and decided not to put his foot any farther into his mouth. Chuckling, Aelinna headed out into the sunshine, ready to gather Allie from the stables and head home to Lakeview Manor.


	5. Wounded

Aelinna decided against staying in a town on the way home to Lakeview Manor, while she had plenty of gold for it, the constant soups were making her yearn for fresh meat. Not much of one for fishing, and therefore slicing her own salmon steaks, she preferred the diet of mostly elk and bear meat, coupled with bread and stews with vegetables in it. 

So instead of staying in Riverwood, she camped out away from the main road, Allie in a simple ground tie for feeding and watering without fear of the horse running off. She sat before a small campfire, inspecting her bow for any damage. The Black Star sat on the ground next to her, gleaming with a filled soul while she looked over the wood for any cracks. 

Taking her time, she went over every inch with her eyes and a hand, feeling for cracks, splits, or splinters. When she was finished, and satisfied her bow was still in good condition, she touched the gem to her bow and refreshed the soul trap enchantment then put The Black Star away. Looking up at the stars in the sky, she noted that it was a good night for hunting her dinner. 

With that she got up from her bedroll, and loped away in a casual crouch with her bow in her right hand. Allie whickered softly at her as she departed, but Aelinna knew that the horse was only saying goodbye before either grazing or going to sleep. It was quiet, so she wasn’t worried about her mount while taking off into the brush. 

Her eyes had long since adjusted to the semi darkness in the moonlight, and she smiled to herself when she went over a small rise in the ground and spotted three elk standing near a tree. ‘Perfect,’ she thought to herself, then paused where she was. Slipping a knee onto the ground for better support, Aelinna pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it carefully.

As soundlessly as possible, she pulled back on the drawstring, bringing the feathers nearly level with her ear while closing an eye to ensure she had a good bead on the animal. Taking in a slow breath, she held it for a moment then let the arrow fly. _Ffseww_ sounded in the quietude while the arrow soared towards her target, and the elk made a sound of protest as the arrow lodged into its neck. The animal fell down dead, causing the other two to run away while a flash of light and energy soared to her pouch. 

Grinning with satisfaction, Aelinna stood up from her crouch and trotted over to her kill. The buck was of a good size, giving her plenty of meat to eat and sell. Pulling out a knife she then began the process of gutting and skinning, and after a time cutting away the meat. It took a long time to field dress the animal, but in the end she had a new hide, plenty of meat, and recovered her arrow. 

Standing up and stretching out her back, she shouldered her roll of goodies and made her way back to camp. Once she was back to her spot on her bedroll, she pulled out a few hunks of meat then impaled them on a spit she had carved earlier. Setting the spit on the poles she had jabbed into the ground on either side of her fire, she then began cooking her dinner. 

The smell of roasting meat was tantalizing her, and Aelinna’s mouth watered while she rotated the spit to ensure even cooking. After a little while she cut off a little bit to see if it was ready to eat, and she mumbled a curse after burning her fingers in the process. Popping the hot piece into her mouth, she spat it back out after a few seconds then wiped her mouth on her gauntlet. “Nope, not ready,” she said out loud to her sleeping horse.

“That’s because you’re spinning it too fast.” Aelinna jumped up so rapidly that her vision blacked out momentarily, and fell back onto her butt while her blood pressure went haywire and her pulse drummed in her ears. “Sorry, did I startle you?” she scowled in the general direction of the voice she could sort of hear over her roaring heartbeat, and when her body settled down she spotted Vilkas.

He looked down at her with a mixture of amusement and concern, and her face told him where he could go with what stuffed up his derriere. Chuckling, he held out a hand and helped her to her feet. “What are you doing out here?” she asked him, forgiving him since he hadn’t meant to give her a heart attack. 

“You said I could come along if I wanted to,” he replied, struggling to hide his mirth.

“Yeah, but when you didn’t follow me out of Whiterun I figured you were running drills with Ria,” Aelinna countered, but her tone was light and playful. 

“I was,” Vilkas said flippantly, turning slightly to examine her small camp. “When I finished her lesson I decided to follow you, and when I didn’t see your horse in Riverwood I followed the road until I saw your fire.” Aelinna looked exasperated at his words, realizing that if he had spotted her fire then anyone could have. An egregious oversight on her part. 

Luckily the only things skulking about had been the elk then. Just as she made to cover her fire, he put a hand on her wrist to stop her. “I would have told you if anything had been nearby, and you need that fire high to cook the meat properly,” he murmured, and she snatched her arm out of the way, blushing. 

Vilkas made a small sound of amusement before sitting down opposite her, placing his own bedroll on the ground and pushing the roll to flatten it out. Aelinna looked around for his horse, and when she didn’t see it she looked at him and opened her mouth to ask. “The horse is nearby, closer to the road,” he said before she could speak, and she closed her mouth and nodded. 

Taking over rotating the spit, he turned it at a noticeably slower rate than she had been, and she looked away. Going over and pulling out her rucksack from the sleeping mare, she rummaged through it and pulled out two hunks of bread, two apples, and two bottles of nordic mead. Returning to the fire, she gave him one of each then sat down to wait for the meat to be done cooking. 

When it was, she realized she had forgotten their plates, went back over to her sack, pulled out two wooden plates then returned and handed him one. Instead of asking how and why she was carrying plates on her, he simply cut the meat down and put them on their plates, then settled back with his bread, apple, and mead. 

They ate in companionable silence, the crackling flames lending an air of peace. After a while Aelinna stripped off her gloves, but remained in her armor. She knew better than to strip down in the wilderness, as she could get ambushed at any moment. Placing her short sword by her makeshift pillow, she laid down to sleep then pulled her blanket up over her shoulders.

Rolling so that she was facing away from the firelight, she fell asleep somewhat quickly. Vilkas watched her for a time, then looked around for enemies in the shadows. Spying nothing, and noting that her mare was sleeping soundly with one hoof cocked, he surmised that a watch wouldn’t be necessary and settled down for sleep himself. 

He set Wuuthrad down beside his bedroll, then laid down in his armor. No sense in tempting fate out here, he reasoned, then looked up at the stars until sleep took him in. All was quiet, the fire having enough fuel to burn for a few more hours and keep the wolves away. There were no giants, thieves, or assassins about, and they rested without any trouble. 

When morning came, Aelinna woke up only mildly sore and feeling very refreshed. Climbing out of her bedroll she noted that Vilkas was still sleeping, and she headed off to relieve herself then came back. Noting that the fire was only embers now, she headed off looking for fallen logs to chop and then returned to camp and added fresh wood, blowing on the embers until the kindling caught and she had a merry blaze going. 

With that she speared more raw meat on the spit, and began cooking up breakfast. She went over to Allie, who was grazing on the grass, and pulled out a cook pot and some bowls. Rummaging around she found some bottles of wine, pouring it into the pot and bringing it over to her fire. Hanging the pot from a second spit, she set about chopping up some leeks and mushrooms, tossing them in to the pot. She then chopped up some of her herbs, tossing those in, then pulled the meat off of the upper spit and tossed that in as well. 

She was just cutting up some of her carrots when Vilkas woke up, the smell of the food having roused him. She smiled, then tossed in the slices and pulled a ladle out of a random bag she had and began stirring. “Smells good,” he said by way of greeting, then wandered off to do his business while she diced some potatoes and tossed the pieces in to the stew.

When he came back she was continually stirring now, the liquid bubbling vigorously over the flames. “Hope you like stew,” she said, then picked up a bowl and began ladling some in. 

“Of course,” he replied happily, gratefully accepting the bowl and sitting down to eat. She handed him a wooden spoon, and he tucked in to his piping hot meal. Aelinna ladled her own bowl then, and sat down to enjoy her breakfast. It tasted a lot better than the soups she’d had, that was for sure. 

After breakfast was done they broke camp, and she kicked dirt over her fire before scattering the wood and the spits she’d used. Putting her hide roll of meat into some saddlebags, she put all her pouches not on her body onto Allie then hopped into the saddle. With that they rode on towards Falkreath, intending to stay at the manor for a few days before making the trip to Windstad Manor. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The next few days once they got to the manor were quiet, Lucia was an easy-going child who kept up on her chores and listened to her elders. Aelinna explained to Rayya that she was heading north towards Solitude, and would be gone for a week or so this time around. The steward made preparations to keep the child happy, and wished her Thane luck for the trip. 

Aelinna tended to her garden, fed the chickens, then brewed some potions at the alchemy station before packing her saddlebags full. Before she left, she gave Lucia a doll, and last-minute instructions to Rayya. Vilkas watched her quietly on his own dark mount, with a blaze on the horse’s face to identify it against Allie. 

Wheeling her mare about, she flipped the reins hard and galloped away with him right behind her on his mare. The trip would have been uneventful, save for the giant that had been herding some mammoths that decided Aelinna was a threat and tried to bash her head in. Somehow she got a few lucky shots with her bow from horseback and brought the creature down, but it was a very stressful moment. 

Bleakwind Basin was generally a giant camp, but Aelinna had intended to skirt by it instead of barreling through it. Of course, after killing the giant, it didn’t matter if she did or not, but she had a grim slant to her features as she rode hard in the direction of Morthal. A storm was fast approaching, thunder booming in the distance. Aelinna knew she wouldn’t make it to the city in time, but she at least wanted to make it over the pass.

The horses were heaving as they sped across the snowy path, fog pouring from their mouths like smoke. Aelinna was racing the storm, snow pelting her in the face and making it difficult to see in the terrain. With the gray sky darkening and the flakes falling faster, it was becoming dangerous to remain outdoors, but she had no choice. There wasn’t anywhere she could go to wait out the weather, she would have to pull through.

Allie slid to a stop and reared when Aelinna nearly rode off of a cliff, and she struggled to regain control over the animal. Cursing loudly, she managed to get the mare calmed down and took the opportunity to let the horse catch its breath. “DragonBorn!” Vilkas called over the roar of the wind. “We can’t stop here! It’s too dangerous!”

“I know!” she called back. “I didn’t see the edge and almost went off it!” Vilkas nodded, feeling the lungs expand and contract under his legs while his own mare struggled to regain her stamina. They waited as long as they dared for the horses to recover, then took off at a gallop trying to get to safety. With the howling winds and crash of thunder above them, it was a frightening journey over the mountains. 

Hooves pounded the snow as they raced onward, trying to find shelter. The storm screamed overheard, causing their horses to fight the bits and run faster in terror. All Aelinna and Vilkas could do was hold on for dear life as they made their way through the mountains and out the other side, heading towards Morthal. 

When the worst of the storm hit Skyrim, the pair hid within the city to wait it out at the inn, with the horses tended to nearby. Many of the guests murmured at the might of the storm, and it took a day before it finally blew itself out and it was safe to travel once again. Since the guests had been stranded by the weather the innkeeper hadn’t charged anyone extra gold. 

Allie seemed nervous as they continued, but the occasional carrot treat perked her up. Aelinna mostly watched the skies, her face unreadable. “Do you think another storm will come?” Vilkas asked her after a while, and she shook her head. 

“I’m looking for worse than that,” she replied, and he took that as something to be deeply concerned about while they continued their trek to the Hjaalmarch. When they finally drew close enough that Aelinna could see her house in the distance, she spurred Allie onward when she heard it. Faint at first, more a rumble than anything else. “Aw, hell,” she muttered, dismounting and taking off on foot.

Vilkas followed her, having also dismounted. Both horses took off running, and while he followed the DragonBorn, he drew his bow when he saw hers out and wondered just what was going on now. The impressive roar in the sky nearly knocked him off his feet, and without thought he shouted, “Dragon!” before notching an arrow to his bow. 

As it passed by overheard they took a few potshots at it, trying to convince the beast to land so they could get a better chance of killing it. The dragon roared in defiance at them, and Aelinna’s steward came running out of Windstad Manor to help them fight the giant lizard. While the nord fired magic at the annoying blood dragon, Aelinna and Vilkas fired arrows at it until the beast landed.

Every opportunity she got she went after it with her short sword, but the flames it kept spewing were a problem. Her cow got caught in the crossfire while they ran around trying to defeat the lizard, and became charbroiled dinner. Everyone ignored the corpse while chasing after the dragon when it became too bloodied to be airborne, hoping to kill the damn thing before anything else was killed. 

Aelinna got a lucky hit on the maw of the dragon when it turned its head to burn her alive, and she wounded it severely. Triumphant, Aelinna raised her sword to slash it again when the dragon swiped with a claw, catching her in the midriff and puncturing her armor. She cried out and went down, causing the two men to be spurred into further action to bring the creature down once and for all. 

“By Ysmir, you’ll pay for that!” Vilkas bellowed, swinging Wuuthrad in a vicious chop that rendered the dragon blind in one eye. It screeched at him, clawing at its head and whipping around trying to catch the warrior in its jaws. Valdimar fired bolts of magic at it, and the dragon managed to catch Vilkas across the cheek as it swiped at the both of them. 

Snarling in rage and pain, Vilkas did everything in his power to bring the dragon down while Valdimar drew closer, firing bolts so rapidly it was almost a constant stream. “Ysmir curse you!” he shouted, then brought Wuuthrad down with enough force that he nearly decapitated the giant lizard. The dragon collapsed, dead. A golden light surrounded it while the skin left its body, leaving behind a skeleton while the soul flew into Aelinna. 

Valdimar stared for a few moments, then dropped to his knees next to his Thane, who hadn’t stirred after she had gone down in battle. She was curled on her side, unmoving. Concern shifted his features, and he looked up at the panting warrior while struggling to find his own air. “She is wounded. We need to move her and see how badly,” he said, and the other nodded before sheathing his weapon and kneeling down himself.

Together they braced their hands on her shoulder and a hip, and carefully rolled her onto her back. Beneath her, on the ground was a pool of blood, and her steel armor had definitive holes from where the dragon’s claw had torn through. Underneath the torn clothing was a gash, and it was bleeding profusely. Valdimar went pale, and he looked up at Vilkas, who looked grave. “This wound is serious,” he said quietly, knowing the other man could hear him. 

“We should get her inside, out of this damaged armor and see what we can do to heal her.” Vilkas spoke softly, almost as though Aelinna was only sleeping.

Valdimar nodded at his words, then very carefully scooped up his Thane and carried her back to Windstad Manor. Since she was only barely conscious she only made a sound once, when she was initially picked up off the ground. Closing the front door behind him, Vilkas followed Valdimar through the house and up the stairs, and he absently noted the layout was the same as the other property. 

Aelinna was carefully placed down on the bed, and Vilkas supported her head while her helmet was pulled off of her. When it came fully off, her hair spilled down onto the blankets like an eerie mimicry of the life force that was leaving her body. Gently lowering her head to the mattress, the two men set about carefully removing her gloves, gauntlets, boots, and bracers. Between the two of them they carefully raised her up into a sitting position and pulled the armor and waist piece off of her body, setting the ruined piece on the floor for now. 

When she was jostled slightly while Valdimar placed her back on the bed clad in her shift and leggings, he noted that the blood began to flow faster and grabbed some robes out of the wardrobe and pressed the wad of fabric against the wound. “We need to stop the bleeding,” Valdimar said, his jaw tight with the repressed worry in him. “Do you have a healing potion?” 

Vilkas shook his head, then moved to rummage around her end tables. Finding one, he uncorked it and sat on the bed. Valdimar steadied the pressure under his hands, feeling the cloth becoming damp. They exchanged glances, and he needed no further urging to hurry before she bled out and died in their arms. 

He carefully picked up her head and cradled it in her lap, somewhat regretting that he was still in full armor and that it couldn’t be comfortable for her. Carefully he opened Aelinna’s mouth, then uncorked the potion and slowly poured it in bits at a time, waiting for her to swallow before continuing until the bottle was empty. 

The wound began closing, but she was still very weak. Valdimar went rummaging himself and found a health potion, passing it to Vilkas who repeated the motions and ensured that Aelinna was able to drink the whole thing. They watched the wound close and heal, and her coloring return from being so pale, but she was still covered in blood. 

Valdimar stood up then, shooing Vilkas out of the room while he set out a clean shift, and clean leggings after lifting up her shift and exposing her belly to note that her leggings had been torn as well. With utmost care and respect for his Thane, he removed the ruined clothes, then left long enough to get a bowl of water and a rag he’d found in the kitchen. 

Coming back to the master bedroom, he washed the blood from her body, making sure that his touch was strictly professional and his gaze did not stray from what he was doing. She was formed like a mannequin in his mind, and he desired to keep it that way. After he was done bathing her, he carefully dressed her in the new clothes then pulled the blankets off of the bed.

Valdimar left the room, going into the other bedroom and pulling the blankets off one of the other beds. He returned once again, placing the fresh ones over Aelinna while she rested quietly, making no noise when they were placed over her. He then carried the blood-covered ones out, tossing them into a bucket and placing it near the front door. 

Curious, Vilkas followed him and then watched him place the bucket down before standing up. “Why have you placed the blankets there like that?” he asked, arms akimbo while he stood in an exhausted manner. 

“Washing,” Valdimar replied matter-of-factly. “No holds around here with washerwomen, so I gotta do it myself to ensure the Thane has clean sheets.”

Accepting this answer Vilkas nodded, then slumped into a chair. “What a day,” he commented, the words not meant to anyone in particular. Valdimar went over to the fireplace, and made a simple dinner of salmon steaks from fish he had caught in the nearby lake, coupled with chopped leeks in a potato heavy stew. Serving them both, they ate in silence. 

After their meal was done, Valdimar went and checked on the chickens and set aside money to buy a new cow. Vilkas went upstairs, checking on the Harbinger to ensure she was sleeping safely before going into the next bedroom. Stripping his armor off carelessly, he then fell into bed, managed to pull the blanket over him, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	6. Hit

The world came back to Aelinna in waves. Slowly she was aware of things again, and she managed to open her eyes. A fuzzy ceiling appeared in her vision, and she blinked several times before it came into focus. “Wha..?” she mumbled, trying to sit up before a hand pushed her back down. 

“Don’t sit up just yet. You lost a lot of blood,” a familiar accented voice said, and she looked up to find Vilkas standing beside the bed she was laying in, sans armor. This caused her to do a mental double-take. Aside from the swimming incident, as she had decided to call it, this was the only other time she had seen him without armor on. He kept it on always, it seemed, even in his quarters in Jorrvaskr. 

He was standing there, in a simple shirt and what appeared to be trousers. As her eyes traveled down to the simple boots he had on, she brought her gaze back up with a confused expression while he looked away, mildly embarrassed. It was then that she realized she wasn’t outside anymore, and looked down at the bed. Lifting the sheets she noted that she was wearing different clothing, and opened her mouth.

Vilkas intercepted her before she could scream or ask. “I did not look at you, nor did I change your clothing. Your steward assisted in cleaning the blood from your healed wounds, but neither of us want you moving around too much,” he explained patiently, gesturing to the ruined armor on the chair a few feet away. Aelinna closed her mouth, then scowled. 

“I don’t care much for being bedridden,” she grumbled, and Vilkas chuckled in response. 

“Nor do I, Harbinger,” he said warmly. “I imagine you are like a horse chomping at the bit, eager for battle and adventure.” With that he sat down on a second chair, sipping from a tankard. Aelinna made a face at him, then shifted positions from her prone one. 

“Why are you sitting in here anyways? I don’t need a babysitter,” she asked grouchily, her eyes full of sparks though it was clear she lacked any real intention to do anything. Vilkas smiled at her in genuine amusement, and it almost took her breath away. She looked down at the blanket then, feeling like a petulant child. 

“You needed someone to watch over you in your sleep, in case we needed to dose you with another potion,” Vilkas replied, taking another sip from his tankard and crossing his leg over his knee in such a way that his left ankle rested on his right thigh near his kneecap, creating a kind of slanted table that allowed him to rest the cup on his other knee.

“You watched me sleep all night?” Aelinna shot back, looking surprised. The low laughter in turn made her either want to throw a pillow at him, strangle him, or both. 

“No, not all night,” he said, struggling to contain his mirth. “Just for a few hours once the sun came up. I was awake anyways, and it gave Valdimar time to wash your sheets in the lake.” Aelinna looked at him oddly, but decided they must have talked while she’d been unconscious or asleep. 

“So while I have you here, I take it that you and Valdimar are swapping shifts then?” she inquired, looking only slightly annoyed.

“Just me. The horses had wandered a ways off after the battle and it was quite tricky to get them back. They’re in the stable now, and I believe your hatchery needed tending to as well,” Vilkas remarked, his silvery gaze full of amusement. Aelinna mouthed ‘oh’ and looked away again, picking at a stray thread in the hem of the blanket before looking around and back at him. 

“Yes?” he asked, and she grimaced.

“Do you really have to sit there and stare at me?” she challenged, folding her arms in her reclined position in a quite comical attempt at intimidation. Even if he’d still been a werewolf, he’d have found the quite silly pouting funny, since it was obvious his wolf would have been able to take her in a second if he’d been heartless. 

“Not anymore now that you’re awake, but I still wouldn’t advise you to get up for a while,” he said flippantly, chortling. Aelinna grabbed the pillow next to her head and tossed it at him, causing him to burst into laughter as it hit him in the face. He got up and tossed it back at the bed, then helped her sit up and braced the pillows against her back for comfort.

Going downstairs, he ran into Valdimar near the cooking pot and let him know that his Thane was awake, and cranky about being bedridden. The other man smirked and handed him a bowl of mushroom soup, then went out to travel to Solitude to see about purchasing a new cow to replace the one that had become a charred mess in the countryside. 

Vilkas headed upstairs to give Aelinna her breakfast, then sat down with a whetstone and Wuuthrad. As he slowly began sharpening the blade on one side of the axe, she ate her food without much in the way of conversation. It seemed like beyond small talk there was nothing to really discuss, and she didn’t want to make it anymore awkward than she felt. 

When she was finished he took the bowl from her, then resumed sitting in bed while he carefully sharpened his weapon, then flipped it to begin on the other side. Closing her eyes for a little while, she had almost dozed off when the sound of Wuuthrad clinking against something wooden got her attention. She opened her eyes in time to see Vilkas shutting the glass lid of the display case, and she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Well it’s easier to keep it there than on me all the time,” Vilkas replied to the look on her face. It made sense, but she couldn’t help the thought that he seemed naked without it, and that went right into embarrassment even though he was fully dressed. Trying to control the emotions crossing her face, Aelinna managed to school her features into something resembling serious. 

For now, their time together was companionable while she recovered, at least until she asked where Valdimar was and Vilkas informed her that he was traveling to Solitude for a cow. Since her home in the Hjaalmarch was out in the middle of nowhere, with a quasi-lake that seemed more like a marsh, that wasn’t exactly a short journey. Especially on foot.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

When the sun finally set, Aelinna was seated at the long table before the fireplace, staring absently into the flames. She’d been allowed to move around the house when her grouchiness had gotten to magic-throwing levels, having fussed away hands trying to help her walk when she hobbled down the steps.

Vilkas was down in the cellar, practicing on the archery target to blow off some steam. With the thickness of the floor and the ceiling, she couldn’t hear anything that he was doing unless he opened the trap door. That was fine with her though, she needed the peace and quiet after being in close quarters all day. 

Her eyes reflected the firelight as she gazed into the flames, and her mind wandered over her total knowledge of Skyrim. From the day she nearly met her end under the executioner's axe in Helgen, to the first dragon she took down, and the achievements of becoming Thane, becoming Harbinger of the Companions, someone to be looked up to. 

Monsters, Daedra, friends and foe alike. Her tenure within the kingdom had certainly never been dull, and she realized that until now she’d never really taken the time to slow down. Had never stopped to smell the wildflowers, or eaten with friends for the sake of it instead of running off to the next mission. ‘When did I get so career oriented?’ she asked herself mentally, then snorted. ‘Right about the time I discovered I’m the DragonBorn and every hold in Skyrim needed me.’

Sighing, she leaned back slightly while adjusting her position on the wooden bench. It was a little uncomfortable to sit with her legs on either side of the plank, but staring at the fire required it. Her hair fell in disarray around her body, in dire need of a brushing. Mostly Aelinna ignored the growing tangles, but it was getting annoying trying to stuff her tresses into her helmet, only to have it snag on something or tug on a knot hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. 

Aelinna was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice when the plank shifted under another’s weight, but when the hairbrush touched her scalp she jumped about a mile out of her skin, her startled cry loud enough to be amusing. Luckily startled noises didn’t account for any of the Thu’um in her repertoire, otherwise that would have been a much bigger problem.

The chuckling behind her head let her know who was holding the hairbrush, and she sighed in defeat while settling back down to allow him to brush her tresses. “You know, you could have said something,” she said, pretending to be more annoyed than she was.

“I didn’t realize you were that deep in your own thoughts,” Vilkas replied, mirth still evident in his voice. As he began working the brush from the ends of her waist length hair and upwards, he felt and heard Aelinna give a long-suffering sigh and he knew she was rolling her eyes at him. Chuckling again, he concentrated on his work and carefully untangled the knots trying to become snarls. 

A comfortable silence grew between them as Vilkas slowly worked the brush through her hair, going up to her scalp and pulling all the way down nearly to her behind with methodical strokes. It took a while, but eventually he had it free of tangles and resorted to idly brushing it for the enjoyment of the act as opposed to removing knots. 

“How long will Valdimar be gone?” Aelinna asked quietly, her words filling the room anyways in the quiet broken only by the snaps and crackles in the fireplace. “A few days or so, he’s on foot and will be bringing back a new cow for the household,” Vilkas murmured in reply, and she nodded. Without realizing it she was subconsciously leaning in to him, her back feather-light against his chest while he put the brush down and allowed the contact. 

Her brain acknowledged that his chin was resting on top of her head, and that she could feel every time he breathed, but she wasn’t actively aware of this since the fire held her captive under its spell. Slowly, carefully, his arms went around her waist and rested in her lap while they just enjoyed each other’s company. 

Neither one wanted to truly bring words to what was going on, but things were definitely beginning to shift between them. “You know what’s funny?” Aelinna mumbled, smiling a little sadly. 

“What?” Vilkas asked, keeping his chin on top of her skull.

“I own multiple properties, even adopted a child, but I never stay too long in one place,” she said, and her words touched on the melancholy. If he could see her eyes he’d have seen the shadows that crossed them, especially when she dwelled on her often lonely life. 

“Truly?” was the response, but he wasn’t judging her. “Many warriors in Skyrim, perhaps all of Tamriel live a nomadic lifestyle, save for us Companions in Jorrvaskr.” The explanation brought a little comfort to her, and she felt the sorrow ease in her chest. 

After a while, Aelinna spoke up again. “Vilkas?”

“Mmm?”

“What’s it like having a sibling?”

Vilkas thought the question over before replying, a little surprised. “I suppose depending on how you’re raised, a sibling is like a best friend and an enemy rolled into one,” he began, a couple little laughs rumbling from his chest as he thought about life with his twin brother. “Farkas and I have always been competitive, though we’re friends now. I would tease him until he punched me, and then we would have races to see who could get the the skyforge first. I imagine we made life very difficult for Kodlak until we were old enough to become men.”

Aelinna listened to his story, smiling as she imagined two rambunctious little boys causing all kinds of hell for the Companions. They had been destined for the wolf blood, and she could see that now. But she was glad she was getting to know them presently, as human beings instead of a werewolf that could tear her throat out for asking the wrong question the wrong way.

The warmth of his body comforted her, and she began to realize she’d been lonely in more than one way. Touch starved, since too many respected her status enough to go near her outside of a fight to the death. No one had ever simply held her the way he was now, with no real thought other than because he wanted to. 

It was kind of funny how it would take something happening for someone to realize it may be something they actually had been missing, and sorely needed. Aelinna lightly snorted at that thought, and Vilkas shifted slightly in response. Who knew who much time passed in this manner, with the two of them just sitting in an innocent embrace. 

That is, until her elbow bumped the plate next to her and knocked it to the floor. The noise it made, along with a distinct sound of metal clattering on stone made Aelinna cringe. “I’ll get it,” Vilkas offered, and before she could stop him, he stood up, then stooped down to reach under the table and grab the two items. 

Her face felt like it was on fire, and she knew she was blushing hard. Vilkas arched an eyebrow, then looked down at what he was holding and actually comprehended. In his palm was the main portion of an amulet, the chain falling loosely down his arm. Of course, it wasn’t just any old amulet one could buy or loot. As the gold reflected the light in the room, he looked up at the scarlet-faced woman.

“What is this?” he asked, his tone mildly confused. Looking down at it again, understanding dawned on him. “Is this an Amulet of Mara?” Aelinna nodded, wishing with all her might that the stone floor would swallow her right about now. She’d been looking at it earlier, and had forgotten that she’d left it out. 

Everyone in Skyrim knew the meaning of the amulet, and what it meant if you had one. Generally you had to be wearing it, but since she’d placed it on the table under the plate she hadn’t really been advertising it. Life would have been much more difficult trying to do her heroic deeds without everyone and their dog hitting on her in the hopes of marriage.

“So, you are single then?” Vilkas added, amused now. The humor in his voice belied that he was struggling not to laugh, especially when the Harbinger buried her face in her hands.

“You weren’t supposed to find that!” she cried, her voice slightly muffled. Gods, could this get any worse than it already was. 

“But you do own it,” he pressed, causing her to squeal in embarrassment and shrink away from him, and he began laughing at her behavior. The super proud, fierce DragonBorn warrior, embarrassed over a marriage necklace. It was hilarious to him, and he was so busy guffawing that he didn’t see her glowering over her fingers at him. 

“Yol Toor Shul!” she Shouted, summoning the fire within her soul and immediately sent a column of flame at Vilkas, igniting him. He cried out in surprise and pain, running to a nearby bucket and dumping water all over himself to douse the flames. He stared at Aelinna, who glared back at him, then they both burst out laughing. 

“I actually bought it for the healing properties,” she admitted after their laughter had died down. “The Priestess of Mara hoped I would use it for a mate, but I was more interested in not dying at the time.” He nodded, understanding that level of reasoning. It made sense why she would have it, but it also forced a question. 

“And for the other meaning of the amulet?” he asked, feeling like the biggest jerk in Skyrim for doing so. But he needed to know, for more than one reason. Even if he didn’t want to admit that to himself just yet. Aelinna turned away from him, staring down at the floor as she contemplated freezing him solid so he’d shut up. 

“It stands,” she mumbled, indicating that she was indeed single, available, and that future marriage was on the table. Before he could react to the hope soaring within his chest, she stood up from the table and promptly fled upstairs. Shock reverberated through him, until he realized he had probably pressed her too far and now she needed space.

With that he uncorked a bottle of wine, then sat down at the table and began drinking. He wasn’t intending to get drunk, merely mellow out over everything that had happened tonight. The varying degrees of emotion were almost overwhelming, but the time apart now helped to cool things off. After all, they didn’t need to have a tense household full of curt words by the time Valdimar returned.

Aelinna was in her room, shaking a little while she sat on the edge of her bed. Just saying that she was unmarried had been a lot, leaving her incredibly vulnerable. Thankfully he had respected her need for space and remained downstairs, though his presence was once again maddening to her. Briefly she wondered if it had been seeing him as he had been brought into this world that had changed things, but that line of thought was just begging for a headache. 

Eventually the hour became late, and she was tired. She began to get ready for bed, folding down the blankets and moving the pillows back to their proper placement and fluffing them. Yawning, she also by habit set her bow with an arrow near the bed, in the event that it was needed. She placed a quiver nearby, and sat down on the mattress to pull off her shoes.

Following that was the foot wraps, which she placed on the end table. Now she was ready to get some real sleep. A wide yawn escaped her then, and Aelinna decided to stretch in the process. Extending her arms skyward, she closed her eyes and smiled at how good it felt to stretch and relax the muscles. Of course, the way a woman stretches also involves thrusting the chest out to accommodate the arms, and many find the act to be delectable. 

Since her eyes were closed mid stretch, she failed to notice that Vilkas had walked in to wish her a good night, and of course, was now staring. The relief of her muscles un-tensing was heavenly, and as she was bringing her arms back down and straightening her spine she opened her eyes to see him standing there.

Instead of apologizing, or explaining why he was there, he merely looked at her. She stared back, and a commingled gaze of gold and silver caused a spark to fly between them. There were no words uttered, merely a subtle testing of the other to figure out just what was going on. As a different kind of tension built up between them.

Aelinna broke the spell first, looking down and away. “I came to wish you a goodnight,” Vilkas murmured, his words as loud as a scream though they were scarcely louder than a whisper. “Good night, Aelinna.” With that he abruptly turned on his heel and walked out, choosing to go down into the cellar and sleeping on his bedroll near the forge.

She remained there, for a time trying to figure out what had just happened before deciding she was far too tired to do so. With that she settled down into bed, and fell asleep quickly. Of course, for the both of them they had dreams that taunted and teased, titillated and aroused. Neither of them slept very well, but wouldn’t talk about it because that meant admitting to things they were beginning to feel. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Aela pulled her sword out of the nord she had killed, seconds before he knifed her in the back. Rummaging around his corpse, she pulled out a piece of paper on it and read the contents. When she realized what it said, her face went stormy and she growled. 

“What is it, Aela?” Farkas asked, cleaning the blood off of his own blade before putting it back in its sheath. His gaze went down to the body of the unremarkable man now rid of his mortal coil, then back to his shield-sister.

“This is a lot more serious than we thought,” she replied, turning and handing him the letter. He took it carefully from her, and upon reading it his face went murderous. 

“Is there a way to prove this?” he asked, his tone dangerous.

“Not without an investigation,” she stated, fury snapping in her eyes as she felt her wolf rising to the challenge, and the urge to transform and glory in the hunt. She hadn’t been this angry in a long time, but now was not the time to lose her temper.

“Call the wolves. We’ll handle it,” Farkas declared, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles went white. Aela nodded, then they both turned away from the mouth of the cave they had been exploring when they’d been ambushed by hired thugs to head back to Whiterun and therefore Jorrvaskr. 

“We should go to Jarl Balgruuf about this as well. A threat to his Thane is a threat to us all,” she said, and Farkas agreed with her. Things had just gotten really serious, and a bounty of that amount on Aelinna’s head was going to mean that they would need to seek outside help for this. If they could prove who was behind this, then Skyrim was in for a shakeup almost as big as that as Ulfric Stormcloak trying to gain the throne as High King and overthrow the Imperial empire.


	7. Tension

The next day was very interesting for the pair, as both now realized they were waiting for Valdimar to return to the manor to keep them from being alone. Every moment their eyes met, one or both would look away, words faltered, touches lingered. It was getting harder and harder to ignore things with the prolonged intimacy of being alone. 

Aelinna felt that the tension in the air between them could be cut with a dagger, and trying to avoid him wasn’t working, since she also had to tend to her chickens and manage her garden. Checking on her hatchery meant she’d find him at the dock, mining for quarried stone to build little things for her house meant she’d bump into him rounding a corner.

It was maddening. There was, naturally, an easy way to bring it to an end, but she fought against it because there was a good chance that it could go very wrong, and cause strife amongst the Companions in the aftermath. She couldn’t take that chance, no matter how tempting it was. How much she wondered, dreamed, yearned.

Discipline was an art, one that took form, focus, and training. Aelinna spent a lot of time in the cellar, practicing on her dummies so that she didn’t become soft. Until her steward returned she couldn’t justify leaving the place without someone to defend it, even though a great option would be to simply flee the premises. 

Out here though, with no protection from a hold, she needed someone to protect her property. Valdimar, with his knowledge of spells as well as fighting abilities, was perfect for this location. It just didn’t help that the Hjaalmarch had sold her land as far away from being able to help anyone as possible. 

She held no ill will against the Jarl she was Thane for, as it was possible she was meant to live out here because of the occasional squadron of thalmor roaming the lands that she would bring down with no more thought if they had been frost spiders. Her home was also in relatively close proximity to the abandoned shack she had woken up in when Astrid had taken her, and where she had killed three people to prove herself to the Dark Brotherhood.

Of course, she had yet to bother returning to commit to the tasks that would cement her status as a member, since killing those three people had left a bad taste in her mouth and caused a few nightmares to plague her nights. Aelinna felt her purpose was to help the people of Skyrim, not murder them for the coin and amusement of others.

The armor she had gotten from them was hidden, deep within a chest within Honeyside, in the basement. Only Jarl Laila Law-Giver and her steward knew about that property, since she had become Thane of Riften somewhat recently. Aelinna much preferred the peaceful tranquility of Lakeview Manor, but she worked to own properties in every hold in case she needed to move for whatever reason. 

A sudden sting on her right cheek brought Aelinna back to reality, and she hissed in pain while dropping her short sword. It clattered to the stones, and she realized that her dummy was in pieces, and a bit of straw had cut her skin. Touching a hand gingerly to the wound, she winced. It was shallow, but hurt a lot.

“You got too distracted,” said Vilkas from the shadows behind her. “You did not notice when the dummy broke under your hit, and paid the price.”

Aelinna turned to face him, while blood began trailing down her face. He came towards her, holding a bit of cloth in his hand. Gesturing to her cheek, she nodded then held still while he wiped the blood away, and then pressed the cloth to the wound. After a few minutes he carefully pulled the cloth off of her skin, then handed her a minor healing potion. 

She uncorked and drank it, feeling the wound close and heal instantly. When she opened her mouth to thank him, his eyes on her made her close it instead of speaking. With her back to the wall now, she realized there was only one door out of the room in the cellar, and he was blocking it. Vilkas seemed to realize this and moved out of the way, giving her a path of escape. 

It was a wordless motion, an understanding of warriors and werewolves that being cornered could lead to deadly outcomes. As an exit appeared, she breathed out a small sigh of relief and relaxed a little. Only someone like him could ever understand that blocking exits wasn’t wise, and she also realized that he was the only one of the people she had worked with who was courteous like that. 

Her housecarls had always been polite, and deferred to her wishes, but her followers either had a tendency to get in the way, or run into a battle half-cocked and nearly get the both of them killed. Vilkas though, he’d been brilliant backup. Proficient with a bow, although not an expert of it like Aela was, he was a good shot and was absolutely deadly with Wuuthrad. 

Moving to head through the doorway into the other room to head up the ladder, she paused when he lightly touched her lower arm. Looking down at his hand, she then glanced away before continuing on and he let go. When she headed up the ladder and pulled the cellar door open, she ascended into the room upstairs while he followed. 

Aelinna immediately headed outside, and he strode after her. He caught her on the edge of the dock, when she had nearly run all the way around and down. “Aelinna!” he called, and she flinched. “You can’t hide from me forever. Please. Just talk to me,” he pleaded, stopping a few feet away from her. 

A gust of wind picked up, whipping ebony strands toward him while she held her ground, stubbornly refusing to look at him. He drew closer to her, the strands of her hair tickling him while he tried to reason with her. “I can’t,” she said finally, all the pain in her heart evident in her voice while she shied away from him. 

“Why not?” he asked, his voice intense as he reached out and touched a shoulder. 

“Because you don’t know what I’ve done,” she wailed, her voice low under the whistle of the wind picking up under an approaching storm. 

“What did you do?” he pressed, managing to grasp her other shoulder and turning her towards him, while the breeze made her hair into a wild, living thing that spread around her like midnight flames. Her eyes were haunted, tears brimming within their depths. 

“I’ve killed people, Vilkas,” she said, the words full of self-loathing. “Good people of Skyrim, for no reason other than their deaths would release me.” Aelinna looked away, closing her eyes to try and hide her pain. “Dragons, thalmor, wolves, frost spiders, those nobody cares about. I murdered for my own gain, to keep them from killing me.”

Vilkas wiped the tears from her eyes as they spilled forth, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. “I’m a killer, Vilkas. And once Skyrim finds out, I’ll be no better than the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood,” she continued, unable to keep going as sobs lodged in her throat. He gently shushed her, as he brought his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest for comfort. 

The wind continued to pick up as the storm approached, lightning striking here and there as the clouds moved in, darkening the landscape and sending the animals scurrying for cover. The horses whinnied in their open stalls, but they were safe in the stable from most of the weather. A lantern had been lit for them, easing a bit of the panic while the chickens went to roost in their little shelter against the house. 

“No one is perfect, Aelinna,” he said while gazing out at the water as the storm howled around them. “Not even the DragonBorn.” With that he chuckled as thunder rolled in the distance, growing ever closer. “And your name seems to hold, Storm-Bringer,” he added, amused. They needed to head indoors to safety, but embracing was nearly intoxicating. 

She looked up at him, a smile crossing her face while a tear escaped. He wiped that one away as well, smiling back down at her. Lightning struck nearby, illuminating the pair and driving home the point that they really needed to seek shelter before one of the Daedric Princes found it funny to send the DragonBorn to the planes of Oblivion. 

Temptation became too great, and Vilkas brought his head down and touched his lips to hers. It felt like sparks were flying within him, until the bolt came down and made contact, reverberating through his armor and sending the both of them flying into the water. There was a scorch mark on the wood of the dock, and Vilkas felt like his armor was on fire.

The electricity had passed over him, but his face was still smarting from the energy and the impact of the water had brought sense back to the both of them. Without hesitation they got up and bee-lined towards the house, running inside just as the rain came and drenched everything. Aelinna stumbled up to her room, soaked, and her clothing bore scorch marks. 

She pulled a few bottles out of her drawer underneath a display case bearing a broken sword and handle, drinking one and casually rolling the other one so that it bounced down the stairs and was caught before it broke on the stone floor at the bottom. Her skin immediately felt a lot better, since lightning bolts tended to kill as much as they maimed. 

Now all she had to deal with was the fact that there was a storm raging outside, and she was standing inside with wet robes. Well, they called it a robe, but it was clearly just a simple dress with a nice leather belt to keep it in place. Pulling it off her head, she tossed it to the floor and kicked the belt away. She also pulled off her shift and leggings, and they smacked the wood wetly on impact. 

Clad in only the briefest of undergarments, those came off as well before she strode over to her wardrobe to look at some fresh clothes to wear while her hair dried off. Grabbing new underthings, she grabbed some black mage robes without really thinking about it and pulled everything on, tying the belt into place so that she was decent. 

She then rummaged through to see what she had, and pulled out fresh pants and a shirt for Vilkas, who would likely need them. Coming down the stairs, she heard movement in the greenhouse. Deciding against investigating, she placed the fresh garments on the table before going back up to her room to pick through her items and see what she had for something to eat. 

It took several minutes, but at last she found the rolled up deer hide with the meat in it, and pulled out several hunks. Picking through her bags she grabbed some vegetables, then came back down into the main living area. The clothes were gone, and she smiled slightly to herself while stoking the flames in the fireplace and getting the cooking pot ready.

Cutting up the meat, she tossed it into the simmering water and added the chopped vegetables for some nice tasty stew. Stirring it a little before settling back to let it all cook, she felt the water from her hair soaking into the fabric over her back and winced a little. Aelinna then turned around, shaking her head to free the strands and allowing the heat from the flames to start drying it off.

Vilkas appeared in the farther doorway of the greenhouse, clad in the trousers she had set out while holding the shirt in a hand. He lounged nonchalantly against the door frame, smiling at her as he noticed that she was trying to dry her hair off. His own tresses were plastered wetly to his skull, making his eyes seem bigger as the paint smeared off. Of course, this just made him look terrifying. 

Aelinna pointed it out to him, and he laughed while going down to the cellar to find his paints among his things and fix it. After several minutes he returned, looking normal though he was still topless. Her eyes went to the hair growing on his chest and belly, but she didn’t look away out of embarrassment this time when he caught her looking. 

A smirk crossed his face, and he sat down at the table to wait for dinner. The front door rattled slightly as a rather strong gust of wind shrieked past it, whistling a little in the tiny cracks of wood. Thankfully the building had been well made under her hands, and none of the air was able to get in and chill the house. 

Aelinna tossed her head again, trying to ensure that everything was drying evenly before pausing to check on the stew. The cook pot was bubbling merrily, and she stirred it a couple times again before going back to drying her hair. Running a hand through it, she determined that it was dry enough that she could sit down without dripping all over everything. 

Vilkas glanced over at her when she chose to sit on the bench closest to the flames instead of one of the chairs, and leisurely crossed his arms across his chest in a manner conveying his amusement. “Avoiding me eh?” he teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

She looked over at him, a saucy look on her face. “Not at all, I’m merely keeping an eye on the food,” she shot back, then turned her attention back over to the cook pot as it bubbled and boiled. The scent of the meal was slowly beginning to fill the room, and it smelled heavenly. It may be a simple meal, but it promised to be quite tasty. 

He chuckled, then stood up and rounded the table to stand in front of her. “No?” he asked, bracing a hand on the table while leaning in close. His eyes danced with the laughter he was holding back, teasing the DragonBorn. She stared him down, with a smile on her face that said she was either going to hit him with something sharp or laugh at him picking on her. 

“Then perhaps, I can try again without Mother Nature trying to turn me into a crispy corpse,” he said, and kissed her again. Without the danger of being struck by lightning, this time the only electric feeling was the emotional kind. The kiss was intended to be gentle, but when she reached up to pull him closer they got a little carried away. 

Of course, falling off a bench will stop all sorts of shenanigans. Unless you end up breaking someone else’s fall, then there’s just pain all around. Laughter filled the house as Aelinna and Vilkas attempted to untangle themselves, then got up from the floor. Checking on the pot showed that the food was ready, so she grabbed some bowls from the table and set up their dinner, adding some apples for variety.

There were some bottles of wine on the table, as well as some smaller bottles of nord mead. Aelinna chose the latter, drinking it carefully while she ate her food, joking with Vilkas as they enjoyed their meal. Having shared two kisses now, they were definitely cooking with gas and there was a different kind of tension in the air. 

It was some time later, after two bottles of mead and the food was consumed, that they fell to talking. Aelinna was feeling mellow with the alcohol and stew in her, and she was pretty relaxed. Idly twirling a finger on the cork sticking out of the glass, she spun the bottle on its edge on the table. 

Vilkas was watching the bottle, having haphazardly pulled his shirt on and it sat on him in a wrinkled fashion which meant it needed to be tugged properly into place. He didn't care in the slightest though, as he had consumed a fair amount of alcohol himself. Aelinna hummed a few disjointed notes of a song she'd heard a bard sing once, before continuing the conversation.

"Have you ever been to Riften?" she asked, nearly knocking the bottle over before correcting her motions and continuing to rotate it.

“Can’t say that I have,” he replied, looking amused. “Why?”

She blushed before replying, “the Temple of Mara is there.” Knocking over the bottle then, she tried to stop it before remembering that it was empty and corked, so there was no worry about anything spilling. 

“Are you propositioning me?” he asked slyly, grinning at her in a semi drunken fashion. 

“No, no, just making conversation,” she said hastily before giggling a bit. “Probably should have asked about a different subject though.” 

“I would have to agree,” he remarked, laughing. Since neither of them were entirely sober, they trudged upstairs to the master bedroom. Instead of getting up to any antics, they slept in each other’s arms for comfort more than anything else. While there was ample opportunity to get up to mischief, there was an underlying current of hesitation on both of their ends. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Aela the Huntress had gathered several of the Companions, and they all left at sunset to head towards Dragonsreach. Patrons in the marketplace moved out of the way, murmuring to each other since it was rare to see more than two of them out of Jorrvaskr at a time, let alone six of them. 

The guards watched the group warily, hands ready to grab weapons while they watched them ascend the stairs heading to the hall. As the doors inside opened, those closest to the door moved away, whispering in hushed tones. When they made it to the dais before the throne, Irileth moved to block their passage forward and demanded to know why they were there.

Aela stared the housecarl down, growling at her. Those at her back fingered their weapons, until Jarl Balgruuf the Greater bade her to stand down and let them pass. He shifted in his throne as the Companions approached, then fanned out. His gaze missed nothing as he observed this, and moved into a position that conveyed the warriors had his full, undivided attention. 

Aela stood there in front, with Farkas at her left shoulder. Behind them were Athis, Brill, Njada, and Ria. All of them were armed, but they showed the proper respect and decorum. This was clearly a serious matter, and Balgruuf motioned to Irileth, who ordered the room cleared. This had never happened before, and there was much vocal inquiries while guards ushered people out. Even the children were removed, virtually unheard of. 

“What brings the Companions to my door, standing before me so heavily armed?” he asked, his voice booming within the hall as he meant to try and maintain control. None of them flinched, and he realized that normal methods were not going to work, especially if he wanted to find out why they were here. He’d never heard of something like this happening, even when he attended the funeral of Kodlak Whitemane. 

“Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, leader of Whiterun,” Aela began, her formality causing Irileth to stiffen and move her stance from relaxed to wary. “We the Companions come before you today with a letter of utmost importance.” She turned and gestured for Farkas to come forward, and he did so while holding out the piece of parchment. 

Irileth intercepted it, and handed the folded contents to the Jarl, who unfolded it and began to read. His face went stony as he absorbed the contents, and a barely perceptible shaking could be seen in his hands. It was clear that the letter had sparked his rage, but he worked to control it and not let anyone else see his temper. 

_It’s become clear that the Jarl’s little pet has stirred up more than a modicum of trouble. See to it that she’s eliminated by any means necessary, and make it look like an accident. We don’t need anyone sniffing around, ruining our plans. Once Aelinna is dead, we can ensure that Balgruuf will come to heel and agree to our terms. Don’t come back until the job is done._

_J.S._

As he looked back up at the Companions, a muscle in his jaw twitched while he clenched and relaxed it. “How did you get this letter?” he asked, his tone full of anger, and a hint of blood-thirst. Aela folded her arms, not afraid of him. She was a warrior through and through, and she answered mostly to the Harbinger, even though it was only an advisory position. 

“Farkas and I were ambushed while on a hunt, and we killed a man holding this on his person,” Aela explained, her amber eyes gleaming in the torchlight while her wolf awakened within her. She swallowed tersely before continuing. “We have reason to believe it was either an assassin or a sell-sword hired to kill our Thane.”

Balgruuf shifted, resting a hand under his chin as he listened. “Were there any clues as to where this man had come from?” he asked, watching carefully the way they reacted. The Companions seemed to be loyal to Whiterun, but in this time of civil unrest, it would be unwise to simply trust anyone outside of his own court and council. 

“Just one,” Aela said, and tossed something small at him. Catching it reflexively, he looked down at the palm of his hand and opened it. Nestled in his hand was a signet ring, meant for imprinting a seal on some wax in an official letter. Balgruuf knew at once who was behind this, as he knew who owned the coat of arms depicted on the metal. 

Standing from his throne, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater stared down at the warriors, who all looked up at him expectantly. He recognized the blood lust within them, the urge to go out and battle those responsible for this. “Aelinna the DragonBorn is not in Whiterun,” he began, addressing the group. “She comes and goes as needed, and my advisors have informed me that she travels Skyrim, seeking to unite the kingdom.”

He looked at Farkas in particular, then at Aela the Huntress. “The last I have heard, she was at her home in the Falkreath Hold, but she may have moved to Haafingar. Go to Jarl Elisif the Fair and seek out more information.” With that he waved a hand, dismissing them. Aela directed that all but Farkas return to Jorrvaskr, and they would go find more information. 

As they left, Balgruuf looked down at the ring and clenched his fist, letting his rage surge through him. This wasn’t going to end well, especially not for the imperial sympathizer who seemed to have finally let greed completely cloud his judgment. He glanced over at his housecarl, who’s hand rested on her weapon. 

“It seems that we have an enemy before we can join the moot,” he said to her, his words quiet and dangerous. “Those who would betray their Thane need to be reminded of their place.”


	8. Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the time i wrote this, i didn't know where the location of the blue palace was. while it's incorrectly placed in solitude in this story, i felt it was far too great an effort to correct it and have left it as is.

Aelinna woke up the next morning, feeling oddly warm and comfortable. Usually waking up in bed meant she was a little uncomfortable, and somewhat cold aside from her little cocoon. As she went to look around for the source, a pair of arms tightened around her waist and pulled her closer. 

Shifting her body to look back over her right shoulder, she spotted the culprit, fast asleep as he cuddled her. A sudden thought made her jerk her head down to her body, lifting the blankets to check. Seeing that she was still clothed, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least they hadn’t gotten up to anything last night. 

She squirmed around a bit, trying to free herself from the super pleasant spot in the bed, and in doing so woke him up. “Good morning,” he murmured pleasantly, and she scrunched up her nose at him. He chuckled, playfully pushing her while sitting up on an elbow. “It seems that we slept together last night,” he added with a dose of humor, and she hit him with her pillow.

“We did not!” she retorted, laughing. 

“Obviously we did, just not in the fashion you’re thinking - oof!” Vilkas cried out when she tackled him around the belly and knocked him flat on the mattress. He proceeded to have a tickle fight with her then, and their combined laughter made it feel very much like home. Aelinna declared victory by placing her hand over his mouth and pushing him back onto the pillow, and he retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. 

She fell out of bed after getting tangled in the blanket trying to escape him, and while he chuckled at her on the floor, Vilkas then got out of bed and stood up. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she grumbled, then freed herself and stood up. He made a silly face at her in reply. Snorting, she turned away from him and opened her wardrobe. 

Vilkas could just see enough of the armaments over her shoulder that he looked suitably impressed. She had quite a collection here, just as it was at her other house. When she pulled out some glass armor, laying the pieces out on the bedspread, he looked at her with renewed respect. 

Not many people could get their hands on a full set of glass armor, and this made her all the more skilled and dangerous as a warrior. As she closed the wardrobe and looked in his direction, he realized that she was more in the mindset of being the Harbinger today, so he took that note of deferential respect. 

Vilkas headed down to the greenhouse, remembering that he had left his armor there last night. Picking up the pieces, he examined them for any signs of damage. Upon seeing nothing to denote that the lightning had done anything substantial, he pulled off the shirt and trousers and put on his beloved wolf armor. 

With that done, he went up the stairs on the left side, going over to the display case and grabbing Wuuthrad out of it. Closing the lid, he placed the weapon across his back and shifted around until it settled into the perfect spot and hung neatly. Dressed now for whatever may come, Vilkas went downstairs again to get some breakfast. 

Aelinna looked intimidating in her armor with her matching bow slung across her back, and the glass sword sheathed at her hip. The helmet was next to her elbow on the table, and breakfast was unusually quiet. He decided not to push things, eating some bread and an apple that had been sitting on a plate for convenience. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Commingled breaths of air plumed in front of them as they jogged across frozen grass that crunched underfoot. Farkas was keeping pace just behind Aela as they moved briskly, conserving energy since they had been on the run all night long after leaving Whiterun. There had been no time to speak, but with the new morning lighting their way, it became obvious they had made good progress. 

Aela put out her torch and then stuck it into a bag, and Farkas did the same with his. The rising sun had made the lights unnecessary now, and they could see around them for at least a mile. As they moved along the sweeping land, a house could be seen ahead of them in the distance. Subconsciously the pair of Companions began moving towards it, exhaustion coloring their decision making. 

She had just crossed a grove of trees when an arrow whistled past her, and she skidded to a stop in surprise. A second one nicked her thigh, and she drew her own bow in an attempt to defend herself. Firing blindly, she heard a faint grunt of pain and began running in that direction. Drawing another arrow, Aela pulled back and was about to let loose another one before a familiar voice stopped her.

“Aela! Stop! It’s us!” Vilkas called, standing out in the sunshine with his arms up in surrender. Farkas came running up with his two-handed sword drawn, but put it away when he spotted his twin brother. They embraced warmly, until Vilkas let go and turned back towards Aelinna. She had pulled the steel arrow out of her side, grimacing from the pain. 

It was a lucky shot, and it had managed to penetrate her armor and stick her like a pig. There was no need for a potion, she could already feel the slight wound in her flesh closing. As she eyed the Companions, she wondered what they were doing so far away from Jorrvaskr. Aela broke the brief silence with a gesture towards the house behind them. 

“Is this your house, Harbinger?” she asked tiredly, and Aelinna nodded in reply. “May we stay here?” Aelinna frowned, and Farkas supplied the information she needed. 

“We’ve been running all night since leaving Dragonsreach, could use a pillow to sleep on before we continue,” he said, and Vilkas exchanged confused glances with Aelinna. 

“Why are you traveling so far out into Skyrim?” he inquired, shifting his attention to his brother and his shield-sister. 

“Orders from Jarl Balgruuf,” Aela replied, slinging her bow across her back and wiping sweat from her brow. “We’re to head to Haafingar Hold and seek out Jarl Elisif the Fair.”

The Harbinger frowned again, folding her arms against her armor. “That’s the Jarl of Solitude,” she said, and when Aela and Farkas nodded, she looked like she had just swallowed something sour. “That entire city is loyal to the empire, and I doubt you two will be welcomed unless you have backup,” she added.

She turned to face Windstad Manor, thinking. When a few minutes had passed, she gave permission for the exhausted pair to rest in her home, and they decided that all four of them would journey to Solitude. Aela and Farkas immediately went to the manor, with instructions that since there was no spare bedroom wing built yet, they could either sleep in the children’s beds or down in the cellar by the forge. 

Aelinna decided to go scouting, having remembered that since she lived near several locations that it may be time to check for ambushes. When Vilkas made to follow, she sent him a look so scathing that he turned around and went back to the house instead. Taking off on foot, she went about the lands near her home in search of any enemies.

Her foresight was not unrewarded, as when she drew close to Folgunthur she was greeted with the sight of several people running at her with their weapons drawn. Crouching down into the grass, Aelinna drew her bow and carefully took aim. With a calmness that belied her current state of mind, she sent glass arrows flying into the mob and took all of them down with one shot each.

The multitude of souls filling her soul gems were used to replenish her bow, and as an afterthought her glass sword as well. Standing up, she put her bow away and trekked over to where the various bodies lay. Looting them of money, lock picks, and her arrows, she left the rest to whatever other scavengers may come through the region. 

Double-checking that she had killed them all, Aelinna went over to the exterior of the bowl and did a cursory sweep of the location. Satisfied, she turned around and headed back to the manor. On her way back, she was greeted with the very welcome sight of Valdimar in the distance, crossing the marsh leading a nice fat cow. 

Joyfully she ran towards him, and he greeted his Thane warmly. Quickly informing him of their guest situation, and that she intended to head towards Solitude as soon as they were able, Aelinna took the rope leash from him while Valdimar trotted back home to get meals ready as fast as possible. 

It was much less complicated with her steward home now, since she could just take off and there wouldn’t be the worry that her home would be undefended and at risk of being robbed. Even if a dragon showed up, Valdimar could keep the house standing. Aelinna just hoped that the Companions didn’t end up burning it down first. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Evening had fallen by the time Aela and Farkas woke up, and they came down from the children’s beds they had both opted to sleep in. While everyone in Jorrvaskr had designated chambers, it was fairly common for your bed to be taken by someone close to it who’d been too tired to keep walking. 

Aelinna was seated at the table, eating dinner while Valdimar was stirring the cooking pot. Vilkas came in from outside, carrying a couple rabbits he had hunted for the household. Handing them off to the steward, he sat down across from the Harbinger and dug in to his own meal without much in the way of conversation. 

When the two Companions seated themselves, Valdimar served them some elk meat before grabbing a bowl of soup and retiring to the back room and enjoying his food quietly at the table there. Silence stretched between the quartet, broken only by the sounds of consumption. Farkas broke the silence with a question between bites. 

“Have you two been here alone?” he asked, intending the question innocently. Aelinna jerked her arm back from the carrots she’d been reaching for in surprise, knocking her helmet off the table and causing it to hit the floor with a loud clang. 

“Farkas!” Aela scolded, tossing a bit of salmon at him in response to his ill-met query. He ducked, and the meat hit the floor instead. Vilkas scowled at his twin, popping a bit of tomato into his mouth. He swallowed the food, then replied. 

“Why does it matter if we were, brother?” he asked, his voice filling with anger and annoyance. His eyes snapped with fire, while Aelinna sat there wishing a dragon would just casually swoop into her house and eat her. That would be far less embarrassing. Valdimar came into the room long enough to pick up her helm and place it back on the table, then he wisely made himself scarce. 

As three pairs of eyes stared at him, Farkas buckled under the pressure of his friends and family. “I was just curious, seeing as the house was empty when we came in, and now there’s a housecarl here,” he tried to explain, visibly wilting. With that he looked away and huffed, showing them that he was dropping the subject. 

Aela wasn’t as smart. “Is that true?” she asked, and Vilkas choked. Coughing, he reached for a tankard and drank deeply to clear his airway. The Harbinger stared at the ceiling, silently asking ‘why me?’ while considering the odds of a dragon eating her or her dropping dead of a heart attack right then. 

“Aela, whether we were here alone or not is none of your concern,” Vilkas managed to say finally, after getting the too large bite of food out of his throat. “The only thing that matters is this mission to Solitude, and getting some answers.” She nodded, but when she reached for a bottle of ale, her amber eyes were on her shield-brother. 

She watched him carefully, failing to notice that Aelinna was now staring at her sword unsheathed in her lap as she contemplated ending her life to escape this awkward situation. Deciding against such a stupid thing, she put her sword away and resigned herself to finish her meal so that they could leave.

Thankfully the rest of the meal went without any other mishaps, and they were free to set off on the trek to Solitude in Haafingar Hold. Aelinna said goodbye to Valdimar, leaving him some spare meat and instructions for her homestead while she was gone. He nodded, readying himself for his solitary living when his Thane was gone. 

As the quartet headed towards the water, Aelinna pointed out the direction of Solitude and they set off as one in that general direction. No one really spoke as they traveled, which worked out in the DragonBorn’s favor since it had been awkward as it was. In any case, it was hard to keep a conversation going when one was jogging across uneven terrain.

Time seemed to pass both quickly and slowly, and before she knew it, they were trotting along the path that lead up to the city’s gates. When the guard opened the doors to let the group in, a few Thalmor slipped out and made their disdain known of the Companions. Farkas went for his weapon, but he was stopped before he could make any trouble for them. 

They made a note of his aggression, chuckling amongst themselves before moving on. Vilkas tugged on his brother’s arm, and they continued on. It was full evening now, but they had time to make it up to the palace where Jarl Elisif was. Drifting through the street and up the ramp leading to the fletcher and the blacksmith, Aelinna noticed her brethren were becoming nervous.

“I told you, this place is absolutely loyal to the empire. In fact, the Imperial Army is stationed out of this place,” she muttered in a low voice, making eye contact with a passing guard as they moved on.

“Citizen,” the guard said, greeting casually while continuing on with his rounds of patrol. Aela and Farkas both turned to watch him go, before shifting back to follow their Harbinger. They were relatively quiet as Aelinna led them to their ultimate destination, occasionally greeting a passerby while they walked through the city.

The Blue Palace loomed overhead as they slipped past several houses, and Aelinna took a breath before opening a door and heading inside. When people looked up and moved away upon their arrival, she knew that there was a possibility things may end up going sideways. She knew better than to check that her bow was still strapped to her back, gleaming darkly in the candlelight.

Faces turned towards them with mixtures of curiosity and trepidation, as the Companion armor was very distinct. Though only Vilkas was wearing the wolf armor, as his brother was sporting steel and Aela was in ancient nord armor, it was clear who they were. Aelinna lead them calmly up the curving stairs, and into the main chamber where the Jarl sat upon her throne.

Aelinna made it about twenty steps before Bolgeir Bearclaw stood in her way, staring her down. The Companions fanned out behind her, and while he only slightly flinched, it was enough for her to summon a multitude of Thu’ums ready in her mind to shout him out of her path. “What business do you have here, approaching the Jarl without summons?” he demanded, and she didn’t react. Shifting her eyes to the Jarl, she responded addressing her instead.

“I am the Harbinger,” she said simply, waiting a bit for the other woman’s response. Elisif the Fair blanched at the words, and commanded Bolgeir to stand down. 

“I was told that Kodlak Whitemane was the Harbinger, not a strange nord woman,” the Jarl began, her words cautious but faltering somewhat. It was clear that she was out of her depth, and she glanced over at her steward, Falk Firebeard, for help. He stepped in, both literally and figuratively. 

“Kodlak is dead, resting now in Sovngarde,” he explained, then gestured to the small group standing like silent sentinels. “It would seem that this woman was deemed the new Harbinger in his place, now that he is gone.” Aelinna nodded in confirmation, and he stepped back to where he had been, though his stance suggested he was on high alert. 

“So, what brings the Harbinger of the Companions to Solitude?” Elisif asked, and Aelinna turned slightly to look over at Aela. Taking the hint, the fiery haired woman stepped forward to answer the inquiry. Aelinna didn’t miss the shared glances of the Jarl and the steward, and she then looked over to see if the Housecarl was sneaking for a weapon. He was not. 

“We are here at the behest of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater,” she stated, her words firm but polite. “He tasked us with speaking with you, to find out information in an investigation he’s performing.” Elisif shifted in her throne, indicating a great interest in Aela’s words.

“And why does he believe that I have some sort of information?” she questioned, and Aelinna noted that this may very well be a trap. The Huntress didn’t back down though, and it was clear that her ability to navigate Jarls was inherent as her skills of a warrior came into play. Aela smirked very slightly, taking a breath before answering.

“I believe it’s because of where your loyalties currently lay,” she said, and didn’t show any reaction when Elisif winced. Her wolf awakened inside her, sensing the proximity of prey. She allowed the beast to look around, but then tempered it back down within her so she could remain in control of the situation. 

“While I do hold great loyalty to General Tullius and the empire, I fail to see why this has come up with Jarl Balgruuf unless I am to be summoned for the moot,” Elisif remarked, looking a little annoyed. “If I being summoned, I doubt that some Companions would be sent to fetch me like common couriers.” 

Farkas clenched his jaw at that insult, his hands closing into fists held tightly at his side. Aela’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Vilkas appeared outwardly calm while he counted the number of guards in the room. If this got messy, he needed to know how many there were and the odds of them getting out alive. 

With the number of people staring, and the low number of visible guards, it didn’t look good if a fight broke out. Not to mention the fact that a large bounty would end up on their heads for fighting with a Jarl of Skyrim. He hoped they could resolve this issue without the need for violence, but he wasn’t holding out much hope for the imperial. 

Aelinna was stone-faced, somehow keeping a rein on both her temper and her tongue, having faith in Aela’s ability to talk to Elisif. If worse came to worst, she would have her shield-sister’s back as they fought their way out of the city and into the wilderness. Her golden eyes snapped fire, but she remained calm and silent with her brethren. 

Aela chose to ignore the insult after wrestling down her wolf and her temper. Her disdain was evident in her body language, but she remained stiffly formal to show that they were better behaved than the widow of the High King. “We are not here to summon you, merely confirm whether or not you may know of any whispers to assassinate the Thane of Whiterun,” she retorted, the words slightly strained in her attempt not to insult the other woman. 

It took a great deal of self control for Aelinna not to outwardly react to this. An assassination attempt on her? How did the Companions know of this? And why didn’t she know before now? Before she could get lost in the multitude of questions whirling about her head, her attention was refocused on Jarl Elisif as she shifted in her throne and clenched her hands. 

“Obviously if I knew of anything of the sort, I would inform the other Jarls,” Elisif said testily, showing her weakness to the werewolf maiden. “Such a thing performed outside of the Dark Brotherhood is unheard of.” 

Aela knew she had the woman right where she wanted her. “So, if you knew of anyone tied to the Empire who wanted the Thane dead, you would inform the other Jarls?” she asked, double checking the reactions of the weaker noble. 

“Yes! Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Elisif shot back, emotion coloring her words and exposing herself to the trap the warrior was setting. 

“What if it was another Jarl who ordered it? What would you do then?” She queried, unable to help the smile from growing on her face.

Elisif sat back in her throne, looking defeated. “I... don’t know,” she said at length, after a pause. “I suppose I would send a legion to Whiterun and assist Jarl Balgruuf in any way I could.” 

Aela nodded, accepting this line of thought. “So, if you did know of anything, you would tell us before we returned to Whiterun Hold?” she coaxed, and Aelinna found herself admiring the tactful skill she was employing to have a noble dancing like a fiddle. It wasn’t something she saw as of late, short of her doing it herself. 

“Of course,” Elisif assured the group, and Aela fell silent, satisfied. Farkas unclenched his jaw and loosened his fists, but his anger could still be seen in his eyes over being called a mongrel pup who fetched everything his master asked of him. As one they turned to leave, but Elisif called to them. 

“Why is the Thane of Whiterun so special?” she asked, and Aelinna turned back to face her. 

“Faas Ru Maar,” she replied simply, the Thu’um rolling off her tongue easily. Immediately shrieks of terror filled the room as people fled, and Elisif gripped her throne so hard her knuckles turned white as she shrank against the chair. 

Erikur laughed, and Falk Firebeard leapt forward to protect the Jarl. As soon as the magic died, the cries began. “DragonBorn!” “She’s DragonBorn!” “Gods be praised! The stories are true!” 

She smirked at the Jarl as she hunkered behind her steward, and turned to follow her Companions down the stairs and out of the Blue Palace. That should certainly stir things up a bit.


	9. Pride

They had just passed Proudspire Manor when a guard came up to the group, torch in hand as he confronted Aelinna. “I need to ask you to stop. That… shouting… is making people nervous.”

“Won’t happen again,” she replied flippantly, grinning underneath her glass helmet. 

“Good. Glad we got that sorted out,” the guard said, then turned and walked away into the night. The group continued on, managing to make it out of Solitude without any further molestation from the guards. Aelinna chuckled softly to herself as they moved on, knowing that she would probably end up using Thu’ums more often there. 

Traveling past Morthal, they made good time considering three of the four of them were getting very tired and would need to sleep soon. Outside of Hamvir’s Rest they were ambushed by a group of bandits, and while it normally would have been quick work to dispose of their enemies, Aelinna found that her reflexes were slower because she was exhausted. 

Firing one arrow after another, she grimaced when a bit of steel whistled past her cheek and cut it open. Grateful that the archer had missed instead of taking her face off, she aimed carefully then shot him in the heart and took him down. With a momentary lull in the battle, Aelinna pulled out The Black Star and touched it to her ebony bow, refreshing the soul trap within it.

A cry of pain drew her attention away from her weapon, and she glanced towards the source of it. One of the bandits had gotten himself run through with the two-handed sword Farkas had been wielding, and he used his foot to extricate his blade from the man. The body went down in a slump, the man dying quietly without any further trouble. 

It seemed like the others had either died or fled, which was good since she was all but dead on her feet. There was still a long way to go though, and all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere and get some much needed sleep. “Not much farther to go,” Aela said at length, and the DragonBorn nodded. “We will go around Silent Moons Camp, head towards Redoran’s Retreat and pass near Bleakwind Basin to get back to Whiterun.”

“Sounds good to me,” Farkas commented, and slung his sword across his back in a casual manner. All three of the Companions were watching Aelinna as she swayed slightly, and looked concerned. “Are you alright?” he asked then, his gaze very much like his brother’s. Vilkas had a mirrored expression on his face, but he said nothing for the time being. 

“I’m fine,” Aelinna said, before fainting dead away.

“Crap,” Farkas said, and Aela scowled at him. 

“She’s probably just exhausted,” she scolded her shield-brother. “Make camp here, we’ll use this as an opportunity to rest.” 

“You got it,” he replied, going around on a hunt for some wood. Returning with several logs, he built up a fire before setting out their bedrolls. With that he then assisted Aela with moving the Harbinger onto a bedroll, then covered her with a blanket so she could get some rest. He mostly stayed near the flames in case something decided to attack them, and after a while Aela went hunting and came back with some rabbits to make stew in the morning.

Some time later they all went to sleep, deciding against a scout since Aela’s heightened senses would alert them to trouble. Night passed easily, and dawn broke with no sign of any enemy nearby. Farkas awoke and went on a walk to stretch his legs, and Aela skinned the rabbits in preparation for a nice hearty stew breakfast. Vilkas elected to remain at camp and wait for the Harbinger to wake up. 

The food was cooking merrily in a small pot when Aelinna came back to awareness. Groaning, she sat up and accepted the bottle of nord mead that was handed to her by Vilkas. Uncorking it she drank deeply, wiping the back of her hand on her mouth to get rid of excess liquid. “How long was I out?” she asked, feeling human again. 

“All night,” Aela said, stirring the pot and adding some vegetables to the stew. Aelinna looked surprised, and looked around to get her bearings. Sure enough, the sun was coming up and everything was bright and cheerful. She must have been more exhausted than she thought, dropping without any form of shelter. Lucky that her shield-siblings had been with her, otherwise the odds were good she may not have made it to sunrise. 

Feeling very humble that they had taken care of her, she was quiet this morning. When Farkas returned from stretching his legs around the camp, he sat down and accepted his bowl of stew with a nod of thanks. Vilkas took his bowl without comment, and Aela passed a bowl to Aelinna without a word. Everyone ate in relative silence, but the chirping birds made it very pleasant. The food was good, and Aela had made enough for everyone to have seconds. 

Some time later they finished eating and broke camp, packing everything up so they could resume their journey. Thankfully they didn’t run into anyone or anything else, and managed to return to Whiterun without any further molestation from enemies. They headed straight to Dragonsreach without any preamble, not even stopping to check on Jorrvaskr. 

They made their way up the stairs and inside the great hall without anyone getting in their way or distracting them, and headed straight for Jarl Balgruuf. He was sitting lazily in his throne as usual, but gave the group his full attention when he realized who was standing before him. “I see you brought my Thane back to me, Aela Huntress,” he said by way of greeting, and the wolf maiden nodded in response. 

“You have my thanks. What news from Haafingar?” he asked, his body language conveying a laziness that hid the fact he was actually tensed for action. He was a nord, after all, and nords in this land were still warriors. He knew better than to get soft in a place that would make or break him and his hold. 

“Jarl Elisif the Fair knows nothing of any immediate plot, but mentioned she would send a squadron of soldiers this way should you need it,” Aela replied, folding her arms casually across her chest. Balgruuf mulled over her words, then turned his attention to Aelinna. 

“Did you have any knowledge of a plot upon your life, Thane?” he asked her then, deciding to be direct since he didn’t care for the song and dance that usually accompanied conversations at court. Aelinna shook her head before replying. 

“I did not, my Jarl,” she said. “I was resting in my home in the Hjaalmarch when Aela and Farkas arrived, bearing news you had sent them on to Solitude to speak to the Jarl there.” She left out the part of Vilkas being with her, but Balgruuf seemed to overlook that fact. It wasn’t his business, after all, what his Thane got up to as long as she obeyed the law and helped his hold. 

He nodded then, satisfied with her answer. With that he thought for a time, watching the small band of warriors as they gazed up at him. They were clearly waiting for something from him, which was a good thing in his mind. It meant that beyond a shadow of a doubt they would obey his orders, and that they could be very helpful in the war. 

He glanced over at his Housecarl, Irileth, and she gave a series of subtle head movements and shrugs to convey a nonverbal message. With that he turned his attention to his steward, Proventus, seeking his counsel. “My lord, it is possible that whoever it is behind this is operating in secret,” he began, gesturing at Balgruuf. “Perhaps they hired the Dark Brotherhood to assassinate her.”

Balgruuf took that into consideration, thinking. He remembered the letter and the ring though, and shook his head. “No, it’s not the Brotherhood who’s behind this,” he replied, his tone flat as his temper flared. “I merely needed to know if Elisif had any idea since she’s in the empire’s pocket.”

Proventus stared, not understanding. Balgruuf glared at him until he dropped his eyes, then continued. “Aela gave me the evidence of who is behind this, and I need to know who may be helping him.” He nodded, looking down at his boots. As he signaled defeat, Balgruuf looked back at the quartet of warriors. 

Aelinna was curious about what Aela had given him, but now was not the time to inquire. Instead she waited patiently for her lord’s instructions, knowing that he would not come to a decision quickly or lightly. The others waited along with her, and they all watched the Jarl for the moment when he was ready to speak to them again with their new marching orders. 

At last, he began to speak again. “We must not tip our hand of our knowledge of this execution order,” he stated, his words slow and thoughtful. “Since we know Elisif is not involved in this matter, it is safe to assume that none of the other Jarls are either.” Shifting a bit in his throne, Balgruuf continued in his assessment. “With that said, we must find a way to take him down before he gets the opportunity to follow through.” his eyes settled onto Aelinna, watching for her reaction to his words. 

“DragonBorn,” he said, capturing her full attention. “I want you to head off as normal, and give no indication that you are aware of an attempt on your life.” She nodded, looking mildly confused. “We are going to draw him out into the open, using you as bait. Only then can we catch him, and bring him to justice before the moot.”

Aelinna gulped, but she accepted this set of plans without question. “Yes sir,” she replied, moving into a stance that relayed she was ready for his dismissal. Balgruuf shifted his attention, then pointed at Vilkas. 

“You there. You are the master of two-handed weapons, are you not?” He demanded, almost not waiting for an answer. 

“I am,” Vilkas responded, not moving out of his stance to show that he wasn’t going to do anything. 

“You will accompany her, and do whatever is necessary to safeguard her life,” Balgruuf stated, then waved his hand in dismissal as he looked away. “The rest of you are dismissed.”

With that they turned and left Dragonsreach, and while Aela and Farkas returned to Jorrvaskr, Aelinna and Vilkas went to Breezehome to get some sleep before heading out into the wilds of Skyrim. There was much to do in regards to baiting whoever this entity was into the open, and in general Aelinna forever had things on her to-do list for various people. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was getting dark when the DragonBorn stepped inside her home, and she heard Lydia greet her from her customary spot in her room. She sighed to herself, happy to be done with the politics of Jarls and courts for the day. It was often exhausting having to navigate the waters of a realm she was unfamiliar with, much preferring the battlefield with her weapons to take down her opponent instead of her words.

Either way, she had her orders now and she intended to follow through with them. She had no idea how she was to be bait, but since she was supposed to carry on like normal, she supposed that she was free to do whatever she wanted. That was easy enough to do, since she did that anyways. With that out of the way, she was looking forward to a quiet dinner and getting some sleep in a proper bed. 

“Aelinna.”

The word was spoken so softly she almost didn’t hear her name. Taking off her glass helm, she turned around to face Vilkas as he stood a few feet from the door. He looked at her with an intensity on his face that she couldn’t name, then closed the distance between them with a few strides. As she opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong he kissed her, and she twined a hand within his hair as she allowed the embrace. 

They spent a few precious moments like that, until she dropped her helm. It landed with a loud clatter, and Lydia called out from above. “Is everything alright, my Thane?” she asked, and footsteps sounded from upstairs as she got out of the chair and headed towards the stairs leading down to them. 

“It’s fine, Lydia,” Aelinna called back, breaking away from the kiss. “I just dropped my helm.”

“Alright then.” With that the footsteps receded back into the bedroom, and a faint creak let them know that Lydia had sat back down in her chair. Aelinna bent down and picked up the errant piece of armor, then gave Vilkas a gentle look of reproach. 

“That was too close,” she murmured, ensuring that her housecarl would not be able to hear her. 

“Must we keep it a secret?” he asked softly, a vulnerable expression crossing his face. 

“Vilkas…” Aelinna started, before sighing. “I don’t even know what’s happening between us, so whatever ‘it’ is is better off not being public until I know.”

He nodded then, understanding. It made sense after all, since they had traded a few kisses it could very well be nothing or something. Naturally his body had other ideas, protesting as he moved away from her to look around the small little home. A few minutes over by her bookcase helped to bring himself back under control, and he thanked the Nine that his armor had prevented anything from becoming obvious. 

Her scent was still in his nostrils, causing his body to react again. Clenching a fist, he dug his nails into his palm and summoned his training to lower his pulse and calm his breathing. As he closed his eyes, he felt the discipline of a warrior drape around him like the finest of cloaks. It didn’t take too long for him to return to normal, without anything to distract him. 

With that dealt with, he relaxed his hand and ignored the pain throbbing up his arm. It would go away shortly, since he hadn’t broken the skin and drawn any blood. Turning back to the room at large, his silver gaze found her easily in the cozy little cottage. She was bent over the cooking pot, ladling soup out into some bowls. He watched her for a moment, then turned until he was staring up at the ceiling. 

“Supper!” he called, and the sound of footsteps approaching then heading down the stairs filled his ears. When Lydia reached the bottom she turned to face him, then after a beat turned to Aelinna with a questioning look on her face. 

“He’s a guest,” Aelinna said by way of explanation, handing her housecarl a bowl. Lydia wisely did not comment, instead thanking her Thane then going upstairs to eat her food. Vilkas shot a confused look in the Harbinger’s direction, then she gestured to the room at large. “Not enough room for tables, so we eat upstairs.”

“Ah,” he replied, then wandered over to get his own bowl to eat and followed their example. All three of them went upstairs, Aelinna sitting on her bed and Lydia in the other room, standing in the doorway with a spoon. Vilkas sat in the chair previously occupied by the other woman, and they tucked in without any further preamble. 

When dinner was finished, they went down to place their dishes in a tray for washing, then retired back to the rooms to sleep. Noting that Lydia was resting in the chair across from Aelinna’s bed, Vilkas decided to sleep in the bed in the other room so as to avoid any confrontation. The last thing he needed was a needless fight over something so simple as sleeping arrangements. 

Of course, he didn’t realize he was in Lydia’s bed, but since she had decided to sleep in the chair it wasn’t a big deal to her. Her protective instincts meant she was hovering near her Thane, just in case Vilkas wasn’t who he seemed he was and intended to end Aelinna with a dagger or something. She had meant it when she’d told Aelinna she’d defend her with her life, as she took the oath seriously. 

The night passed without any further issues, and the pair left early the next morning. Lydia had standing instructions to protect the house and keep the food stocked, other than that she could do as she wished. She just hoped that her Thane would be alright in the big realm of Skyrim. So many lost their lives looking for adventure.


	10. Death

It wasn’t until Aelinna made it out of Whiterun that she remembered she had left her horse at Windstad Manor. Cursing quietly under her breath, she resigned to walk all the way back to Lakeview until she passed the carriage. Of course, she could use the carriage to get her close, then ride her mare back to her original home. That way she wouldn’t have to walk all over the kingdom again. Much easier.

Informing Vilkas of her plans, she paid the driver fifty gold before going around and sitting in the back of the wagon. He hopped up and sat across from her, then Bjorlam flicked the reins over his horse and began the trek to Morthal. Sometimes he sang, mostly he talked to pass the time, and Aelinna or Vilkas would occasionally politely respond.

When they arrived at their destination, they hopped out and Bjorlam gave a small salute before heading back to Whiterun Stables to await another customer. From there they headed northeast to her home, gathered the horses and began the trip back to Lakeview Manor. Aelinna was mostly quiet, as she had a lot on her mind. Vilkas didn’t break the silence much, he was merely contented to ride beside her outside of combat. 

As the nature of Skyrim goes, the DragonBorn found herself distracted by bandits, a dragon, and cultists from Solstheim. Each battle was difficult enough, but the worst by far was when she had made it to Riverwood. They had been trying to outrun the dragon on horseback since there wasn’t any good place to dismount and fight it. 

Yanking hard on the reins of Allie, Aelinna leapt off her horse and took off at a dead run into town to assist the guards as the dragon roared overhead. She’d been hoping that it would have gotten bored and flown off, but such was not the case today. Vilkas was hot on her heels as she ran towards the approximate center of town, raising her ebony bow and firing rapidly every time she got the chance to do so.

The great lizard was angry, as nearly all the guards and townsfolk were firing at it. Puffing out columns of flame, it wheeled about and landed on a convenient roof so it could better pinpoint the next sources for its meal. Arrows rained down on its scaly body, peppering it with wounds as the citizens did their best to bring the beast down. 

Aelinna managed to Shout unrelenting force at it, and the dragon flapped its wings and returned to the sky, wheeling about to land. “My Thane!” a voice called, and she turned to see a familiar face running up to her. 

“Faendal!” Aelinna called back, surprised to see him approaching her. “What are you doing -- we need to take down that dragon!”

Faendal nodded, and pointed to more carnage. “Aye, but we also have bandits attacking!” he said, and then fired off a few rounds into a man who was trying to set some barrels on fire.

“Oh for the love of Mara!” Aelinna swore, firing and missing at the dragon while shifting her attention to the newer problem. “Vilkas! Aim for the dragon and take it down before this whole village burns!”

“Aye!” Vilkas replied, taking off to battle the dragon with Wuuthrad in his hands since it had landed in a clearing not too far away. Roars interspersed with screams, and it was all around chaos. Aelinna lost her helm when an axe narrowly avoided taking her head clean off, and her midnight hair tumbled down her back. 

Shouting with fury, she drew her ebony sword and attacked the bandits with a rage born of desperation. If that dragon wasn’t dead soon, there was going to be a lot more trouble than these people could count on. In the middle of the fighting she heard the death cry of the mighty beast, but her attention was on the people surrounding her as she was backed into a corner.

The soul surrounded and entered her, just as one bandit lunged high and the DragonBorn tried to dodge the blow. Unfortunately she left herself wide open in the process of trying to defend herself, and another bandit went for the killing strike. Faendal saw this, he’d been trying to fight his way to his Thane when he’d spotted her backed against a house with five men surrounding her. The odds weren’t good that she’d escape unscathed. 

He fired off a few shots with his bow, taking down two of them. As the one swung to disembowel the DragonBorn as she deflected a blow from on high, he ran forth and twisted to defend her. Unfortunately, he was a trifle too slow and instead of blocking the blade with his bow, it cut deep into his body and ripped out the other side, blood splashing Aelinna and the barrels she stood against as he went down. 

“Faendal!” she screamed, and without thinking she Shouted unrelenting force over and over, sending the bandits tumbling to be dispatched by the guards. Anyone who tried to go near her was subject to the voice of a dragon, and many went flying. It was accidental, but in her hysteria she couldn’t tell who was friend and who was foe. 

Gathering her friend into her arms, she tried to see if she could use a healing spell on him, but it was too late. As he smiled up at her, she watched the light leave his eyes as he died in her arms. Renewed screams of grief tore from her, tears spilling down her face while she viciously Shouted away anyone who tried to help her.

She kept it up until her throat was raw and she could no longer speak. The townspeople had realized she was no longer in her right mind, and gave her plenty of room as she mourned the death of her friend. He’d been a great follower, and though he often nearly got her killed, they’d had a bond as she’d wandered about Skyrim before meeting the Companions in Whiterun. 

At last, she lowered her head to his form and sobbed until she couldn’t cry anymore. It was a long time before Vilkas drew close enough to her without being thrown back by her Thu’ums, but he was no worse for the wear. Placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort the Harbinger, his heart wrenched in his chest when she looked up at him with a tear-streaked face. 

She said nothing, but it was clear that she was asking him questions that he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why some died and some lived, nor did he know if she could have saved him. He hadn’t seen the man fall, so couldn’t tell her how bad the wound had been when it took Faendal down. His gaze was both gentle and sorrowful, but he knew that preparations had to be made now.

Offering a hand to her, he helped Aelinna stand up while she awkwardly clutched onto the body of her fallen friend. “We need to bury him,” he murmured softly, and she nodded. A hiccup escaped her, followed by a small sob. He understood her pain, and walked with his hand on the small of her back as they walked towards the other end of town. 

They chose to bury him outside of city limits, off of the main road amongst the trees. It was a simple ceremony, and Aelinna managed to croak a few words as they laid him to rest. Turning away when they were finished shoveling dirt over the mound, she looked out towards nothing in particular as she tried to process her grief. 

Vilkas tossed the shovel away, and embraced her from behind as he offered solace. It was never easy losing a friend, but life wasn’t always sunshine and roses here. This land made you, or it broke you. There didn’t seem to be any in-between. Her sadness was palpable, and while Vilkas sympathized with her loss, since he didn’t know the man he didn’t quite understand the depth of her pain. 

It was a long time before he spoke. 

“Come, let us return to Lakeview. You could use the rest,” he murmured against her ear, and he felt her nod in response. With that he led her back through the village, and though the people gave her a wide berth, she was able to pass through unmolested. At one point she spotted her helm lying on the grass, and she picked it up and resumed walking. 

Hopping onto Allie’s back, she turned her horse towards the general direction of home and set off a slow pace. Vilkas mounted his own horse and joined her, keeping an eye out for any more bandits or the like. The Daedra seemed to have mercy, as they didn’t encounter anything else on the way to the manor. Even the bandits that normally camped on the overhead bridge seemed more lethargic than usual, and Vilkas dispatched them easily so Aelinna didn’t have to move. 

As they approached the homestead, he spotted Rayya outside with Lucia. They both seemed excited to see Aelinna returned safe and sound, but both paused when they saw the look on her face. Numbly, she dismounted and began walking stiffly towards the house. Vilkas dismounted and led both horses to the stable, bringing them inside before trailing after her. 

“What happened?” Rayya asked, watching as Aelinna carelessly dropped a doll into Lucia’s outstretched hands while also seeming to ignore her. Vilkas sighed, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair. “There was a hard battle, and she lost a friend,” he replied, not wanting to get into too much detail with the child nearby. 

Rayya understood though, and she ushered Lucia over to the apiary to do her chores. When the child protested, she explained that her mother needed some time alone right now and that she could see her later. Lucia accepted this, and she proceeded to start cleaning the small building while tucking her doll into her waistband so that she wouldn’t lose it. 

The steward turned back to look at Vilkas, who seemed lost. With a sigh he seemed to steel himself, and went into the house. Rayya decided it would be a good time to mine some iron and do minor repairs to the outside of the home, since it would keep herself and the child distracted from whatever may be going on indoors. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Aelinna had stripped off her armor, not caring where the pieces had landed. It was like a trail of breadcrumbs, and they led to the back bedroom where she lay curled on the sheets clad in only her underthings. Vilkas picked up the discarded armors, putting them away quietly in the wardrobe as she sniffled. 

Pulling out a simple black dress, he closed the doors then sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t move, so he gently tugged on her arms and waist until she was sitting up. Aelinna didn’t really react, so consumed in her grief she was, but a part of her knew he was there trying to help. He coaxed her to lift her arms above her head, then pulled the dress on.

Hauling her to her feet, he tugged the dress down until it settled around her ankles and then tugged her back down to the bed. She sat there limply, and he looked around for a brush then decided to tame her tangled locks before the knots became snarls. He made no noise as he brushed her hair, but she leaned into him absently as he performed this small act of intimacy. 

When he was done, he dropped a kiss on top of her head before putting the bush away. A gentle push on her shoulders put her back down on the bed, and he rummaged around for clothes for himself before shucking his armor to be inspected and cleaned later. He placed Wuuthrad in a display case, intending to inspect and sharpen the blade at some point. It was starting to become a little dull when it came to killing his enemies. 

After changing into more comfortable attire, he went downstairs then outside to speak to the steward. It took a long time, but he summoned Lucia and explained to both of them that Aelinna was having a hard time right now, and she was going to need time to heal from her loss. He went on to explain that right now if enemies were to attack the home she wouldn’t be able to help defend them, so it was best if they stayed elsewhere for a little while. 

“Where would we go?” Lucia asked, her eyes filling with tears. Vilkas knelt down on one knee and brushed them away, smiling at her. 

“You could stay with my shield-siblings in Jorrvaskr,” he offered, before looking up at the skeptical Rayya. “It’s a well defended hall, with many warriors who wouldn’t hesitate to protect you. Any family of the Harbinger is family of ours, and they would gladly give their lives to ensure you remained safe.”

The steward seemed to mull it over, then nodded her agreement. With that Vilkas helped her pack food for Lucia, as well as a change of clothing, some things to sell for some coin, and food to keep them on their journey to Whiterun. Instructions were passed on, how to introduce themselves to the remnants of the Circle and where the living quarters were. 

From there he explained that while their presence would overall be accepted, his twin brother and his shield-sister Aela would likely have questions for them. After assuring Rayya that all would be well, and double-checking the provisions tied to the sides of the horse’s saddle, Vilkas then stepped back and allowed the riders to begin their journey.

Lucia looked very small riding in front of Rayya, but since they didn’t have a pony small enough for the child to travel on, this would have to do. She waved solemnly to Vilkas as the steward wheeled the horse about, and he returned the gesture while watching them go. A part of him hated to send them away, but it was for their safety above all else. 

When that was done, he went back inside. Quiet sobs floated down from upstairs, and Vilkas simply grabbed a bit of cooked meat and some bread for her. He knew that these first few days were going to be the hardest, but since he had an official order to watch over the DragonBorn now, he decided to pitch in for the long haul. 

As he wandered up to join her again, his thoughts flitted about as he pondered over the stores of food and drink in the house. There was of course the ever-looming threat of enemy attack since they didn’t have the protection of a hold, but he felt they could handle whatever would come. They weren’t accomplished warriors for nothing. 

Vilkas brushed aside his musings as he sat on the edge of the bed again. Aelinna shifted away from him, becoming small as she tried to curl up on herself. With the patience of a saint, he placed a piece of bread by her face and waited. He had forgotten to get himself something to eat, but for now he didn’t mind going without in order to ensure the Harbinger didn’t starve herself. 

It only took a few moments before the bread disappeared and he heard the slight sounds of chewing. Deftly he put down another piece, which went the way of the first one. A small smile crossed his face, and he continued to feed her in this fashion until the bread was gone. From there he added chunks of meat, and when that had been exhausted he watched her shift away again. 

It wasn’t much, but it was something at least. Standing up, Vilkas went down to find the bucket of water that was usually near the fireplace. Tipping the ladle within it, he filled up a mug with the tepid liquid and brought it back up to her. Normally he would have given her an ale or a mead to drink, but he felt that now was not the best time to get drunk. 

The mug clattered softly against the wood of the nightstand as he placed it down, then turned to leave the room. He paused to look back at her, and noted she had chosen to sit up long enough to take a bit of a drink then laid back down on the bed. With that he was confident that Aelinna would be alright, and went down to fill the yawning void in his own belly. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Hooves rang out against stone as Rayya maneuvered the nimble little mare over some outcroppings that were in the way. Lucia was thankfully a quiet rider, as she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle the thousand-and-one questions that children usually had when they were sent away from home. 

Her mind was focused on protecting her charge, but she also worried for her Thane. Aelinna had lost people in battle before, nearly everyone had, but she seemed to be taking this death harder than the others. Rayya wondered if the one who’d gone on to Sovngarde had been someone close to her, as that would explain why she was so devastated.

Whinnying brought her back to the present, and she flicked the reins and nudged the horse’s flanks to encourage it to jump over the little stream. The horse did so without further hesitation, and Rayya decided it was better to concentrate on her surroundings so that she didn’t become ambushed by a random predator.

This decision proved to be very wise, as shortly after a sabretooth cat roared its intent and charged forth to attack horse and riders. The horse bellowed in response, rearing back on its hind legs and using its hooves to attack the cat. Rayya swore, yanking on the reins in her right hand while drawing her blade in her left. 

Lucia cried out in fear, hanging on to the mare’s mane for dear life as the steward fought to bring the horse back under control so she could take down the wild creature. Unable to fully do so, Rayya swung her sword wildly in the hopes of driving the sabretooth back so that they could flee to safety. She scored a few lucky blows, then pulled hard on the reins to turn the mare and gallop away. 

She leaned close over the saddle, driving Lucia forward as she encouraged more speed from the nimble equine. Skyrim horses were bred for mostly stamina, not exactly speed, but they were making good progress in the direction of Whiterun Stables and Pelagia Farm. The roars of the cat let Rayya know that it was still hot on their heels, but she prayed to the Nine that someone would see them and lend them aid.

As they eventually drew near to the farm and Honningbrew Meadery, some nords took notice of the determined cat chasing horse and riders and ran over to assist. With a combination of arrows and blades the sabretooth cat was dispatched to Hel, and Rayya thanked the men profusely for helping her. 

They waved in return, then wandered back over to the fields they had been tilling for harvest. With that Rayya calmed her little charge, and Lucia settled back against her as they took a more relaxed pace the rest of the way towards the city. The mare puffed a bit here and there, but the slower speed allowed her to recover and soon she was cantering gracefully. 

Soon enough, they arrived at Whiterun Stables, where she paid a little gold to hold the mare in one of the stalls for a while. When she was questioned, she mentioned she was the Steward of the Thane and that settled that issue quite quickly. The mare was led to the choicest stall, where she was given a rub down and some food before being led on a walk to cool down.

Rayya took Lucia’s hand, then shouldered their provisions and began walking towards the gates to enter the city itself. 

“You know, I used to beg here,” Lucia said matter-of-factly. Rayya did a double-take as she glanced down at the child. 

“What?” was all she could manage to reply with. 

“Yep. My aunt and uncle kicked me out of the home so I begged here in Whiterun until momma came by and adopted me,” Lucia explained, completely at ease with the way she had relayed her story.

Rayya stared down at her, suddenly grateful that her Thane was as kind as she was fierce in battle. “What happened to your mother and father?” she asked, as they wandered up the path that went over a small drawbridge and curved towards the gates that were guarded at all hours. Lucia looked up at the reddened woman, her face thoughtful as she thought about it. 

“They died,” she replied succinctly, offering no other explanation. Rayya’s heart squeezed in her chest as sadness overcame her. To lose her parents so young, and to be subject to the cruelty of those that should have been taking care of her, caused a rage to burn within the Redguard woman for a few moments until she got herself under control. 

She tightened her hand a bit around Lucia’s as they walked through the gates, but the child didn’t protest. Lucia had a family now, a mother who loved her and an auntie who doted on her and protected her. Lucia felt at peace walking with the taller woman, and she pointed out a few places to Rayya since it was her first time in Whiterun. 

The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon when they ascended the stairs that led to the circle that held a great tree, and offered paths to the Temple of Kynareth, Jorrvaskr, and Dragonsreach where the Jarl resided. Lucia tugged and pointed the right direction, and Rayya went to ask her how she knew where to go before remembering that the child had been a beggar for an unknown amount of time in the city and likely knew where everything was.

Without further preamble they headed in the direction of the ancient hall, going up the stairs slowly and then pulling open the doors and heading inside. Most of the Companions were seated at the tables eating their dinner when the pair entered, and as one they all looked up at the women. Aela and Farkas were the first to stand, and approached them warily. 

As the two remaining members of the Circle, they were the leaders since the Harbinger wasn’t here to guide them. Farkas’ gaze remained on Rayya, but Aela recognized the child from the few times she had gone out into Skyrim for one reason or another. 

“You there, you’re one of the beggar children, are you not?” she asked Lucia, getting straight to the point. Lucia giggled. 

“Not anymore, not since momma adopted me and gave me a home and Auntie Rayya here,” she chirped, using her free hand to point to the Redguard. Aela’s gaze flicked up to her, but the woman was a stranger to her. 

“Why are you here?” Farkas asked then, deciding to pitch in to the conversation. Rayya put down her bags, relinquishing her hold on the child in the process. Lucia, to her credit, didn’t bolt the second she was freed like many children would. Instead she stood quietly, waiting like the well-behaved little girl she was. 

Rayya took a breath before replying. “I am here at the request of Vilkas, with the daughter of the Harbinger to stay for a time.” Her words had been chosen carefully, and she spoke them slowly. Aela and Farkas exchanged glances, then looked back at her.

“And who are you?” Aela queried, folding her arms across her chest.

“I am Rayya, Steward of the Thane of Falkreath, also known as the DragonBorn and Thane of Whiterun, Harbinger of the Companions,” she remarked without missing a beat. With that Aela relaxed, knowing that this wasn’t some Silver Hand spy come to murder them all in their sleep. She gestured for the pair to follow her as she went down to the living quarters, with Farkas trailing along behind them.

With that all said and done, the steward and the child settled into their beds, bunking with the other maidens of the Companions since the Harbinger’s room was kept empty for her should she decide to drop back in in the interim. They were treated warmly, like family as Vilkas had predicted they would be. They would never mistreat those the Harbinger had claimed as relative and protector of her home.


	11. Journey

For a time she seemed to be alright, but the night was hard. Vilkas stayed nearby, since the screams from her nightmares kept him awake anyways. When she sat upright in bed, weak Thu’ums tearing from her wounded throat, he was there to comfort her and give her liquids. It was exhausting, but he needed to keep her from screaming the house apart.

When the morning dawned, she could barely emit a croak. Her throat was raw, the vocal cords fractured and tender. Vilkas had her sip on healing potions, but he knew this was beyond the medicine of Skyrim. As the hour became more decent for travel, he had her dress in the lightest of armors, knowing she wasn’t in the best of conditions. 

Aelinna obeyed him, lost in her grief but aware of her surroundings. He grabbed Wuuthrad from its place, regretting he hadn’t had time to sharpen it but this was a more pressing matter. As she looked to him, silently asking a question, he shoved a pack of herbs and food at her and gently pushed her towards the stairs. 

“We’re going to the Throat of the World, to seek the Greybeards,” he told her, traipsing along behind her as he ushered her across the house and outside. She opened her mouth, and he shoved some sweetmeat into it then lightly tied a strip of leather around her neck. “Don’t try to talk, Storm-Bringer. You’ll only make it worse.”

Chewing, she nodded in response then pulled at the strip questioningly. “Put that over your mouth, and tie it ‘round your head. It’ll remind you not to speak,” Vilkas instructed, leading the horses out of the stable and approaching her with them. Aelinna did as she was told, then put on her helm to hold it in place while she rode. 

Stopping next to her, Vilkas held Allie still as Aelinna tried to get into the saddle. She had difficulty doing so, and Vilkas lightly tapped the mare’s knees to coax her to lie down. The horse obeyed, sliding into position with a soft nicker. The much easier vantage let Aelinna climb on without hesitating, and she gripped the strands of the mane for a moment before settling back into the saddle and grasping the reins. 

With that Vilkas grasped the bridle over the horse’s head and clicked his tongue twice in succession. Allie immediately got to her feet, pushing one hoof out into the dirt to maintain balance as she stepped around and back a little bit to get her center of gravity back. He let go of her bridle then, moving out of the way then climbing onto his own mount. 

Double-checking that he had prepared everything, he glanced back over at the muzzled DragonBorn and winced. She had to be in a lot of pain, but her outward countenance betrayed nothing of the sort. Vilkas looked up at the sky, gauging the weather and deciding it was good enough to ride. Flicking the reins, he jolted his horse forward and set off in the direction of High Hrothgar. 

Aelinna rode behind him, letting him take point since she wasn’t in the mindset of being the leader. Her thoughts were vague, flitting about like hummingbirds in smoke. Her throat ached, throbbing in spikes of pain whenever she swallowed. The healing potions had taken a bit of the edge off, but Vilkas was smart to head to the Greybeards to seek help. 

Of course since she was currently gagged as well as a pony wearing a bit, she could probably just shake the leather off and croak him into a cliff, but that wouldn’t get her any better and would only serve to prove the point that she needed the Greybeards to help her out. Not just in the matter of Thu’ums, but also in keeping a hold on her temper.

Her emotions were generally well balanced, aside from now, but her temper still needed some work. Thankfully Allie was well trained and didn’t react to the reins slackening in her mouth, and kept pace with the stallion in front of her. This meant that the DragonBorn was free to traipse around in her mind, dwelling on whatever she felt like while heading towards Ivarstead and the five thousand steps. 

Vilkas rode carefully, looking behind him often to check that Allie was still trotting close. He had half a mind to hold her reins in his hand, or tie them to his saddle, but in a land where you could get attacked anywhere at any time, that seemed stupid to the point of suicide. Thankfully the mare kept her nose to his stallion’s tail and seemed a lot more alert about what was going on than Aelinna was.

That was alright though, right now she just needed to follow him and not get lost. He was one of the leaders of the Companions after all, and was used to commanding his shield-siblings in various missions before the death of Kodlak. He knew that back home his brother and shield-sister were controlling Jorrvaskr without any problems, which was why he’d been confident about sending Rayya and Lucia to them. 

They would know that Vilkas had sent them for a good reason, and when he got the chance he would head back there himself to talk to them. Mostly to explain what was going on, but also to get the chance to catch up with his family. A part of him missed the jovial chaos of living in the ancient hall, sharing quarters with his twin who often snored at night. 

Another part recognized that the day a midnight-haired nord woman with golden eyes walked into the hall seeking to join the Companions, his life had changed forever. He didn’t blame her for the things set in motion that ultimately led to Kodlak’s death and her taking over as Harbinger at his spirit’s behest, he knew that the fates had had to do with that. 

She had also shown him her skill with bow and blade, and her very shouts that tore her enemies asunder and proved that she was the DragonBorn of legend, come to Skyrim to avert a great evil. He’d grown to respect her, even fear her a little. So much time had been spent seeing her as the warrior, that until he saw her at the lake he’d almost forgotten she was a woman. 

Vilkas shook himself out of his thoughts as his horse whinnied. Gripping the reins tighter, he shifted his gaze to see what had caused the stallion to react the way it did and spotted the small pack of wolves in the path up ahead. There were only three of them, but it was still a pain to deal with. He drew his bow and aimed carefully, minding that if he fired wrong he might wound his ride. 

Releasing the first arrow he aimed again, shutting his right eye as he shifted his arrow towards the other two wolves now running towards them, dark patches against the snow of the mountain pass. Firing the second one, the distant yelp let him know that his shot had struck true and the animal fell down dead. Exhaling slowly, Vilkas drew his third arrow and drew a bead on the rapidly approaching animal. His fingers barely twitched and he hit the wolf between the eyes, killing it instantly. 

With that he put his bow back across his spine, fitting snugly underneath Wuuthrad. His silver gaze swept across the frozen landscape for any other predators, then he flicked the reins to encourage his mount into a rolling canter. He heard the crunching hoof beats of Allie behind him, and he twisted around to see that she had seemingly moved of her own volition as Aelinna was staring off into the trees.

At first he thought she was simply lost in her mind as he had been within his own, then as he shifted back in the general direction of the road he realized there was a bear over there. He was forced to turn back around as the horses maneuvered a curve in the stone pathway, but his ears were perked for any sign that it had decided to chase after them. 

Leaning forwards in the saddle, he flicked the reins again and the horse moved into a gallop. He didn’t want to try and face down an angry grizzly in this narrow part of the pass, and he hoped if they fled the area fast enough it might not notice their passage. Several tense moments later, he twisted around as far as he could, staring past Aelinna at the road behind them to see if they were in fact being pursued. He saw nothing. 

Sighing in relief, he tugged on the reins to pull the horse back into a canter to ensure that the stallion would retain as much stamina as possible. The horse obeyed, and he felt the muscles bunch up underneath him as the horse adjusted its stride to compensate for the iciness of the stones as well as the somewhat slower pace. 

An equine sound of protest met his ears, and he shifted enough to glance back and see Allie champing on her bit, and a resigned DragonBorn bringing her back under control. He chuckled a bit as he faced forward once again, recognizing that the mare liked to run and was annoyed at being denied her chance as they broached the town of Ivarstead. 

They left their horses in the care of the townspeople there, as they could not make the steps without falling to their deaths. Aelinna had already made the pilgrimage once before, but nevertheless people were happy to see her again. She waved halfheartedly here and there, seeming eager to leave as they crossed the bridge leading to the steps up the mountain. 

The journey up was mostly uneventful, dispatching the frost trolls with ease and passing fellow pilgrims meditating before the story stones. It seemed like forever and nothing at all to make it to the top, and while the wind was sharp and cold High Hrothgar seemed inviting as it loomed above them. They slipped inside quickly, hoping to warm up before seeking out the monks. 

Arngeir spotted them first, and approached. He didn’t recognize Aelinna at first, and he didn’t know Vilkas at all. “What brings you here, travelers?” he asked, his voice soft yet seemingly echoing in the stones around them. Aelinna removed her helm, carelessly dropping it and causing the metal to ring against the floor. Shaking her hair free, she reached for the leather strap covering her mouth and pulled it away.

“This,” she croaked, and a weak Fus followed, the blue shimmering force of the Thu’um fading before it made three feet from her face. Arngeir looked sorrowful, reaching out to her. 

“You have misused the Voice, Dovahkiin,” he chided gently, and as she stepped forward he brought his other arm around to embrace her back and usher her deeper into the room. “What happened, child?” he asked, his voice warm like a father talking to his daughter consolingly. “Why is your Thu’um so out of control?”

Hesitating, Aelinna managed to relay her story of the loss of Faendal, hiccuping here and there as fresh tears poured from her face and Thu’ums bounced harmlessly about the air. The other three Greybeards arrived, hearing her grief as she spoke and accidentally Shouted. They knew intimately what she was going through, since their whispers could kill Vilkas on the spot. 

He stayed back, knowing that in this he was not needed but also remaining as Balgruuf had ordered him to stay by her side. Arngeir politely ignored him, having gleaned that for himself from the DragonBorn as she squeaked her way into silence. 

“My dear child,” he began as she finished. “We can help you, but know that we can only do so this once. The next time you abuse the Shouts, we may not be able to assist. You would be condemned to never speaking, unless you desire to blast your friends into oblivion.” Aelinna nodded, smiling faintly at the monk. 

“Come, DragonBorn,” he said, gesturing for the others to join him. “We will give you medicine to heal your throat, then we shall take counsel from Paarthurnax as to the best means to help you with the Way.”

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Rayya awoke first, sitting up in bed before remembering where she was and why. Lucia was asleep still, but she could hear the sounds of footsteps in the hallway from the Companions moving about. Putting on her armor and her headpiece, Rayya slipped her sword onto her waist and left the room to see what was going on. The other women had already vacated their beds, so Lucia was alone and undisturbed. She went out into the hallway and looked around, noting that brilliant red carpet seemed to denote other hallways and entrances to what were probably bedrooms. 

It took some minutes, but she figured out where the door back into Jorrvaskr proper was and went through it. Heading up the stairs, she found the others seated at the tables eating breakfast. Deciding to get some food into her before waking up the child, she slipped into a free seat while meats and breads were placed in front of her.

The Companions seemed to have gotten used to her presence, even with the fact that Redguards weren’t that common in Whiterun. She relaxed her guard a bit, recognizing that her words had placated them and she wouldn’t have to worry about getting into a fight. Digging in to the surprisingly hearty food, Rayya managed to enjoy a very filling meal. 

Aela inquired politely about where they had come from, but it quickly became clear that she had no idea why Vilkas had sent her and Lucia here other than something had happened with her Thane. It also was obvious that she had no idea how long they were supposed to stay either, but none of the warriors minded.

A few of them remembered Lucia from her begging days, and they were quite happy to know that she had been adopted and was treated well as family of their Harbinger. When she appeared for her own food, Njada came over to escort the child to the table, peppering her with questions. Lucia happily answered them all, explaining that Aelinna was her mother now, and that she had a nice home with her own room, nice clean clothes, and all the food she could eat. 

The Companions seemed overjoyed by this, and they explained that Aelinna was their shield-sister which made them all family to Lucia as well. She appeared delighted by this information, dubbing all of them either aunt or uncle immediately. Farkas scowled at being called ‘Uncle Farkas’ but Aela pointed out he was being honored, not insulted. With that his temper cooled, and he let the girl into his lap while she helped herself to his plate. 

Breakfast passed uneventfully after that, and while the others went out to train, or to do missions to fill their coffers, Rayya and Lucia remained in the hall. Aela gave them instructions that they could leave the hall to do as they wished, but that they should return before sundown to ensure that they still had beds where they currently were.

Instead Rayya had the girl doing various chores so that she wouldn’t get too bored without her toys and her pets. Newcomers came and went, all but one applying to become a Companion. The one that wasn’t applying was a messenger, and he left after handing Aela a piece of parchment. She read it over casually, then put it away. More work to be done for the people of Skyrim. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was about a week or so before the Greybeards were certain Aelinna could speak without Shouting. She did so carefully, but Borri and Wulfgar helped with her voice therapy. From Vilkas’ perspective they seemed to be pantomiming things to her, but they were actually nearly sub-vocalizing their words to her so he couldn’t hear them from where he was. 

Arngeir spoke to him once, briefly to mention that he should be as unobtrusive as possible so that she could focus. There was the strong implication that he should leave the monastery, as soon as possible in fact. Vilkas had nodded, and relayed that Jarl Balgruuf had given orders that he was to remain by her side, as there was a hit out on her. Arngeir looked pained by this information, but allowed Vilkas to remain in High Hrothgar. 

It was a few more days before Aelinna could speak normally at all, and the steady supply of specialty potions had aided greatly in this regard. She spent time out in the courtyards, meditating on her failures and learning the true power of the Voice. The Greybeards respected that she was finding her own path on the Way, but they occasionally sat with her to impart wisdom. 

Here and there she journeyed up to speak to Paarthurnax himself, and he gave her a word to meditate on and discover more knowledge of. Vilkas didn’t follow when she went up there, even if the Greybeards had stopped barring him access. Whatever she did up there, it was none of his business and the monks had assured him that their Grand Master would protect her from any harm. 

At last the permission was given that she could leave, along with the admonishments to not abuse her Thu’ums again or she was completely out of luck. Aelinna left an offering of food and wine as a thank you in the donation chest outside, then headed back down the mountain to retrieve her mount from Ivarstead. 

The journey home was quiet, not because she was unable to speak, merely because she chose not to. Vilkas respected this and didn’t try to force a conversation before she was ready. This time they were lucky, encountering no enemies in the pass as they journeyed home. Leaving the horses in the stable as usual, Aelinna went to check on her apiary and see how the bees were doing. Following that, she casually killed a necromancer at the altar below her home. 

Returning to the front of the manor, she slipped inside and paused by the dining table. Vilkas approached her slowly, stopping a few feet away from her. A distant sound of thunder boomed, faintly heard through the windows. He quietly slipped off his armor, setting it down on the wood next to Wuuthrad to remind him to clean, sharpen, and repair. 

As she stared into the cook fire he changed into regular clothing, coming down with a pair for her so she could get out of the armor she was wearing. She did so quietly, and Vilkas carried off her armor and put it away for her. Returning once again to the living room, he stopped a few feet away so as to give her some space. 

Hours passed, but Vilkas didn’t push his intrusion. Thunder boomed off and on, and he handed her a bowl of stew before he sat down and ate his own dinner. He heard the sound of her eating, though she remained where she was. No matter, he reasoned. At least she was eating at all. When she was done he took the bowl and put it in the back room with the other dirty dishes to be washed and used again. 

“Aelinna?” he inquired softly as night came and the room darkened except for the torches. She turned to him, her face unreadable. “Are you alright?”

She approached him then, sitting down next to him at the table. “It still hurts,” she admitted, not looking at him as she spoke. “I’m not sure why really.”

“Tell me about him,” Vilkas urged, leaning close. “I’m sure it’ll help you in your grief to understand why you’re taking it so hard.”

Aelinna looked at him then, a sad smile crossing her face as a single tear escaped. “Well, he was the first person I met in Skyrim after I escaped from Helgen. He taught me how to use a bow, although I knew how to use a blade already,” she began, and Vilkas looked surprised. He hadn’t known she’d been at Helgen, nor that she had been taught the bow by someone other than Aela. 

“I had been visiting Hammerfell for a time, and on the way back here I got captured by the Imperial guards with a man I came to know as Ulfric. We had taken to chatting in the wagon on the way to our executions, traitors to the empire. When the black dragon attacked, we were able to escape though I lost track of him,” she continued. “When I made my way to Riverwood Faendal had been there, and he taught me everything I know now about how to shoot.”

Vilkas listened, enraptured. ‘She’d been sentenced to die along with Ulfric Stormcloak?’’ he thought to himself. “Faendal became a follower of mine, which came in handy as the new Thane of Whiterun,” she went on. “We became friends, and though I released him from my service long ago, we remained close and talked often when I could manage to pass through.”

With that, Vilkas understood why this death had been so much harder on her than any of the others. He’d been her first friend, someone who had given her tools that helped her grow her name and reputation, and who wouldn’t bug her for an autograph or something else equally silly. He’d likely also counseled her in her fears before she had come to Jorrvaskr, and whatever secrets she’d given him had gone to the grave. 

“I see,” he replied at length, and he meant it. “He rests well in Sovngarde now, and one day you will see him again.” 

Aelinna smiled at him when she heard those words, as they brought her some comfort. Her eyes rested on his, and she was able to discern some of the emotions hidden in their depths. A spark jumped between them, and this time she didn’t shy away, or give an excuse. This time she allowed the emotions to flow within her, reminding her that she was not a numbed out shell of the warrior she’d once been. 

When he leaned in close to kiss her, she met it with a certainty she hadn’t really known before. No interruptions, no falling off of a bench to temper their moods as surely as a bucket of cold water dumped on their heads. This time there was just the knowledge that they desired each other, and as the embrace deepened, Aelinna stood from the table.

Vilkas watched her, as she gestured for him to follow her up the stairs. A smile flitted across his features as he realized what she wanted now, and he was eager to give it to her. His steps were sure and determined as he walked up the wooden stairs, and crossed into the master bedroom. This was going to be a night to remember, he decided. One he’d never forget.


	12. Lovers

The candles burned low in their sconces as she slowly stripped off her clothing. There was no sense of hurry to her motions, and she was enjoying the buildup of anticipation. Hungry eyes watched while she pulled the shift off over her head and tossed it away, and a smile crossed her face while she pulled the straps of her bra down her shoulders and reached behind her to undo the clever little clasp holding the leather in place against her spine.

Each movement was calculated to tease and torment, to stoke the fires of desire. Sliding the bra down her arms and casually dropping it onto the floor, the smile became a mischievous smirk when she caressed her body, noting that his eyes were following her hands as she brought them lower and lower. When they reached her hips, she hooked her thumbs under the leather bands of her underwear and pulled them down.

Letting go, they fell down her thighs and she expertly shifted a leg to arrest the momentum, and they slowly dropped down her shin to her ankles; and she stepped out of them neatly. Her hair rippled around her waist as she moved, and she stood naked as the day she was born before him. His gaze examined her, and as he slid his eyes over her curves to drink in every inch of her, she noted that his pupils had dilated in arousal.

Arousal that she was causing him, and an answering call rose within her as she teased him. She lifted her arms to her hair, pulling it off of her shoulders and giving it a gentle shake before dropping the tresses. They spilled over her breasts, tickling her belly while she smiled at him. Her nipples reacted to the stimulus from her hair, puckering and reaching towards him as if begging for his kisses. 

As he reached up and began to disrobe himself, her eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight while she felt her mouth water in response. First his shirt came up, tossed without a care to land in a random corner. His gaze caught hers when he stood there topless, pausing for a moment. His sultry smile caught her off guard, and she realized that she was not the only one versed in seduction.

His body was as she had remembered it, hard and lean with muscles that rippled underneath his fair skin. Hair dusted his chest and sprinkled down his torso, disappearing into his breeches and making her suddenly want to trace the line with her tongue with x-rated intensity. His fingers moved to the buttons that held them up, and she swallowed hard. 

One, two, three buttons were undone, and the fabric peeled away so slowly, her complete attention was focused on the act and she failed to notice that he was openly grinning at his own teasing. Her growing need was a palpable presence in the room, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her. At last he had pulled away enough that with a subtle tug with his right hand, his breeches came free and he pushed them down. 

They went over his thighs, down to the floor and stepped out of. His manhood stood proud before her, straight and tall as a testament to his attraction to her. Her eyes traveled up his legs after tracking the descent of his breeches, then as his loincloth joined them on the floor she inhaled visibly. He was staring so carefully at her, he knew the second that her gaze settled on his hips. He noted the hitch in her breathing, then the almost nervous wetting of her lips. When she looked back up at his face, he saw a small tremor in her hands as her nerves began to get the best of her. 

Humor bloomed in his chest, but now was not the time for words. He crossed the room to her, walking past the bed. At the last second she blanched, but he gently grasped her head and kissed her fiercely. Oh, he’d been longing to kiss her again for some time now, dreaming of this moment for what seemed like forever. His fingers speared into her locks and held her to him, and his need, his want, his desire was communicated through the kiss that seared her to her soul. 

She answered the kiss, accepting him without question and reaching up to embrace him as well. Her hands went up to his head, splaying through his short hair and grasping his scalp. It was almost as though they needed each other, pulling the other closer and closer until it seemed their flesh would give way and they would meld into one being. The kiss deepened, and both their hands began to wander. 

She slid a palm down his back, down to his hip to grasp at his buttocks with a playful squeeze, digging in her nails somewhat. His went to her breast, fondling it for a time before ghosting down her side to his true prize. As his fingers brushed against her hidden pearl, she let out a small gasp into his mouth, and he growled in response. Shifting his head, he nudged her mouth up and away and began kissing down her jaw, nibbling her earlobe for a few moments before kissing his way down her neck.

Interspersing kisses with nibbles and gentle bites, he began using his fingers to cause more delightful torment within her. Shifting stances, she subtly parted her legs to allow him more access to her core while clutching onto him for dear life. His manhood brushed against her thigh, throbbing once or twice to convey his own need. Pushing her against the wall, he lifted his other hand to fondle her breast again while returning to her mouth to kiss her deeply. 

A flicker of a thought crossed her mind, and she touched her tongue with his to see what would happen. The response was immediate, crushing her against the wood while his control shifted. He warred with her, using his tongue to simulate the thrusting, undulating motions of what was to come while pushing a single digit within her. As his hand echoed the motions, she let out a moan and her knees buckled. 

Chuckling softly, he picked her up, spinning around and dropping her onto the bedspread. Before she could react he was on her, covering her body with his own while raining more kisses on her neck and mouth. She began feeling overwhelmed, and while squirming let out a sound that was halfway between a moan and a frustrated sigh. He slipped a hand down her body again, running his fingers along her belly. He felt some of the faint scars from previous battles, but his ministrations were for pleasure not pain. 

Slipping a finger inside her again, he tested her wetness while also seeing if she was ready for him. She gasped and moaned while he moved it back and forth, and he couldn’t resist kissing her again. Her sounds were like the finest of ales to him, more intoxicating than skooma and more pleasurable than the most skilled of courtesans. Drinking her essence deeply, he carefully bit down on her lower lip and tugged on it with his teeth. 

A strangled gasp fell from her, and she opened her burning golden eyes to take him in, and he smiled down at her. Pulling his hand away, he grasped himself and shifted his thighs to prepare. She couldn’t look away from his face, and she reached up to caress his cheek as he probed against her, seeking her opening to bring themselves together as one. She tensed as he found her entrance, and he moved his hand away to brace on his arms while carefully sliding in. 

Aelinna gasped, feeling him slowly move within her until he hit a barrier. He slid his arms up the bed, lowering his body to hers and she grabbed at his shoulders instinctively. He moved a bit to grab her leg and push it up, bending her knee so that he would have a little more room to work with. Slowly, carefully, he pushed against her maidenhead until he felt it give way against him and he slid down to the hilt. 

In that moment Aelinna gave a breathless, ragged cry, and he waited without moving while she processed this invasion. She gritted her teeth against the pain, but she had experienced worse in the heat of battle so this wasn’t so bad. It was no more painful than an arrow in the side, but this was not an intent to kill her so much as it was an intent to bring a different kind of death. After several moments the pain subsided, and an unusual itch replaced it. 

She made a noise, but she couldn’t even begin to articulate what it was supposed to mean. Vilkas took that as a sign that she was ready to continue, and he began withdrawing from her. Aelinna made a sound of protest when he nearly slipped out, and he chuckled at her. She glared up at him, feeling a sense of dissatisfaction and loss when he moved away. He paused with the tip still inside her, and he grinned before sliding back down.

A little _oh!_ Went off in her mind, and the friction felt absolutely delicious. The itching sensation seemed to be growing rather than fading, and she reached up for him without entirely realizing she was doing so. Vilkas burrowed himself within her, letting her arms go around his shoulders while he managed to wrap his arms around her against the bed while he began moving in earnest, keeping the pace slow while she got used to the sensations. 

Soft moans fell from her as she panted, and she writhed underneath him as her need grew until it felt like she was going to explode. Her nails raked across his back, drawing red lines against his flesh with stinging welts. He kissed her shoulder before letting go and drawing himself up, looming over her as he began to pick up the pace. 

Aelinna let out a louder moan, throwing her head back against the pillows and moving her hips in time with his. She grabbed at anything she could get, leaving scratches when her grip slipped or she couldn’t hang on anymore. Vilkas felt sweat gathering on his body as he held back his release, wanting to savor this for as long as possible. A moan fell from his own lips, escaping his tight control over himself and she reacted immediately. 

She cried out, arching her chest up high enough she just barely brushed her nipples against him before dropping back to the bed, the motion carried over in her hips in a full body undulation. This of course elicited another moan from him, since her movement coupled with a tensing and relaxing that nearly did him in. He began moving faster against her, driving himself harder and deeper while racing to the ultimate summit. 

Her moans grew louder and higher in pitch, senses narrowing until all she was aware of was his body against hers, moving in and out with surprising skill and speed. Without actually thinking about it, she lifted her legs until her feet hung in the air, and the different angle allowed him to slide even deeper until their bodies touched, and he repeatedly bumped into her cervix. 

The sudden difference in pleasure made Aelinna stiffen and shake slightly, and it felt like her body was wound too tight, like a coil under pressure. The coil snapped then, and a torrent of pleasure spilled over her body like a wave. She cried out loudly, her body relaxing and going limp as she climaxed and Vilkas slammed into her over and over with a desperate urgency, grasping her hips and hanging on as though his life depended on it. 

At last he threw his head back and moaned, the sound falling into a growl as he thrust against her one last time, spilling his seed within her and collapsing on top of her. Rolling onto his back off of her, they both lay there panting for air in the now too hot room. It was some time before either of them were able to say anything, and all she could say was, “Wow.”

Vilkas chuckled softly, tempted to say ‘you’re welcome’ in reply but deciding he liked his life better than being sent to Sovngarde with an axe in his neck. Wiping sweat off of his forehead, he flopped his arm back against the pillow and scraping his knuckles against the wall. “That was… really something,” Aelinna murmured, a smile lingering on her face. 

He turned his head to the left to look over at her, amusement filling him. “I’d be glad to ease your pain again any time, Harbinger,” he teased, and she smacked him in the chest and made him laugh. 

“You’re going to regret that!” she said, and stared at him with an impishness that implied she was up to something. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” he taunted her, grinning. Aelinna climbed on top of him, a mock look of anger on her face. The smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth gave away her playfulness, and when she leaned down to kiss him he wrapped her in a bear hug while tasting her nectar like a hummingbird at a flower. She bit at his lower lip, imitating what he had done to her earlier. He growled at her, and she snickered. With that she bit his neck, causing him to moan and rise to attention behind her. 

Feeling his flesh jutting against her backside, she grinned evilly at him before biting his neck again, harder this time. His arms tightened around her, and a shuddering gasp caused his chest to flutter below her. It didn’t take long for her to figure out he liked being bitten, and she raked her nails down his chest. The red marks bloomed against his pale skin, and she felt him jump against her ass in response. 

“You like pain, do you?” she said mockingly, giving him a saucy look. Vilkas looked up at her, wondering just what she was up to now. Leaning backwards, he let go of her as she drew herself up and stared down at him with a devilish smile on her face. Reaching behind her, he felt her grasp him and it wasn’t until she had slipped his manhood forwards and he felt her wetness against him that he realized what she was up to. 

Sliding down, she slipped her thighs apart as she slid down to the hilt with ease and none of the hesitation from a little while ago. A little chuckle sighed from her, and he narrowed his eyes at her while waiting to see what she was going to do next. Drawing herself up again, she brought her thighs in close and caused her core to tighten in a way that tantalized his senses. Hovering with just the head near her entrance, Aelinna swiped her arm down and across with a speed that startled him. Red bloomed against white, and she had broken the skin with her nails from the strength she had put into the motion. Blood seeped up from the cuts, but it was just a trace amount as though he had been scratched by a thorny bush. 

At the same time, as her arm cleared his abdomen she dropped her thighs and sank against him, the sudden combination of pleasure and pain undoing any sense of control he had had. She began moving against him wildly, with no other purpose than their mutual pleasure. Throwing her head back as she bounced up and down, her hair draped itself over his shins and rippled like an ebony curtain. 

He grabbed onto her hips, groaning aloud as she had given him nearly no time to recover and he was already dangerously close to the edge thanks to the commingling of pain and pleasure. When he tried to shift her away from grinding her hips down into him, she slashed at him again while driving her hips down and back, and a moan that started low in her throat jumped into a high pitched gasp as she shuddered. Vilkas yelped a moan, digging his nails into her skin as he felt his seed pump up into her. 

With that she sagged against him, kissing him briefly before rolling off and trying to catch her breath. “Told you you’d regret it,” she said after a while, and he laughed. They were both completely sated now, and a little sore to boot. When her breathing had slowed down to normal levels, she moved until she snuggled against him, and he stroked her hair fondly until they both fell asleep.

Sometime in the night they awoke again, and tangled limbs and gentle kisses became a third round of pleasure. Their combined cries of release seemed similar to that of the howl of a wolf, and there was definitely a sense of peace after fighting their desire for such a long time. As daylight dawned, they slept deeply in each other’s arms. Cuddling close in a spooning position, their dreams were pleasant ones that echoed the night’s events. 

When they finally woke up, Vilkas got out of bed and put on his loincloth and breeches before heading downstairs, putting on his boots and heading outside to relieve himself. Coming back inside, he began preparing breakfast for the two of them. Aelinna picked up her discarded clothes, putting on fresh ones and a simple dress over her shift since she had no plans for travel today. 

Passing by him on her way to check her horse, he greeted her warmly and with a lingering kiss. She smiled at him then, her eyes dancing with happiness before going outside to check on the horses and give them food and water. Upon her return, they enjoyed a hearty breakfast before doing some chores around the house that inevitably resulted in another romp. Soreness be damned, they were enjoying each other now that they were no longer denying the attraction. 

Days passed lazily like this in their seclusion, and that was just fine with them. In the interim they hunted, or went out on small quests to rescue people that had been kidnapped from various holds or killed a wanted criminal. Their bond grew deeper between them as trust built into a solidarity, and they both accepted without question they would fight and die together as lovers if they could never make it to the Temple of Mara in Riften. 

Without thought, more than a month had passed this way since the temptation to remain here had been too great. Aelinna and Vilkas had settled into a rhythm, and many of their days were filled with love-making while they explored each other’s bodies and learned what gave the other pleasure. This heightened their joinings, and soon it was obvious that they were completely inseparable as a couple. 

Of course, that was all about to change. 

One morning, Aelinna awoke feeling fine and made her way downstairs so she could go take care of the horses. As she drew near the stable, the familiar smell of horseflesh, straw, and droppings filled her nostrils. Normally this smell didn’t bother her, but the nausea came upon her so quickly, that she bent over and retched where she stood. As she straightened and wiped her sleeve across her mouth, she wondered if she was sick before a look of alarm crossed her face.

She’d never gotten the herbs to prevent -- quickly she reached down, touching her lower abdomen between her hips. She’d been meaning to harvest or buy them for the potions, but had never gotten around to it since so many other things had needed doing. Her belly was flat under her hand, but Aelinna had the feeling that was going to change relatively soon. 

At first she cursed herself for forgetting to get the herbs for the potions to prevent this very thing from happening, but after a time as she came to terms with it she accepted what was happening. She realized that she wouldn’t mind carrying to term, especially with Vilkas as the father. He was a proud fighter, master of his craft and excellent with a bow. He’d saved her hide on more than one occasion, and of course no one in Skyrim would mind if they had gotten a little enthusiastic before a ceremony.

Courtships were short, of course, in a land torn apart by war. This was common knowledge to everyone. A small smile crossed her face, and she allowed herself to be carried away by the daydreams of a wedding and a family. She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice the band of people sneaking up on her, until a twig snapped and she whirled around. 

Her eyes roamed the landscape rapidly, but she saw nothing. Her senses prickled, warning her that although she was seeing nothing, she was not alone here. Just as she turned back to the stable as the horses whinnied in alarm, a spell struck her body and left her unable to move. ‘Crap! A paralysis spell!’ she thought to herself, wincing mentally when she toppled over and hit the ground with a mighty crash.

Thankfully she had landed on her back, even though it hurt like hell. Footsteps drew close to her, and though her eyes were stuck staring forward, she became vaguely aware someone was leaning over her face, shading it from the sun. Since she was unable to blink until the spell wore off, her vision had gone blurry from the tears welling in her eyes to keep them moist. 

“You’re a hard one to find, Thane of Whiterun,” an unfamiliar voice said to her, the tone full of gloating. “I’m sure once we get you settled with our boss, the games can truly begin.” There was the sudden sensation of arms lifting her from the ground, and as the spell began to wear off she was careful to hold still for an opportune moment to escape. 

Seizing the moment to strike, they had just lowered her into a wagon when she exploded into motion and took one of the men down with a summoned blade, then Shouted unrelenting force at the others. A hand clamped over her mouth from behind, and an arm seized her waist and stopped her from moving. “Do that again, and you lose your life,” the voice hissed into her ear, and based on the accent she had the feeling an Argonian was holding her. 

Aelinna began to struggle, knowing she could break the hold on her, but the sensation of steel against her unarmored body stopped her cold. The knowledge of life within her gave her pause when she normally would have accepted the wound to cut his head off, and she released the spell for her bound blade. 

“Good girl. Now get in the wagon,” the voice prompted, and she obeyed. Once seated she was bound with ropes, and a rag was tied around her face to gag her. The surviving members of the band were wary of her now, they hadn’t known she could use the Thu’um like Ulfric Stormcloak, and if they let her speak she could shout them into Oblivion. 

The sound of reins slapping filled her ears, and the wagon lurched into motion. Aelinna looked back at the house as the gang rode off for who knows where, and she couldn’t help the tears that filled her eyes. None of the men were paying any attention to her, busy concentrating on the road as they made their escape with their prize.

As the tears cascaded down her cheeks, Aelinna realized there would be no way for Vilkas to know what had happened to her while the house shrank into the distance. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she wriggled furiously in her bonds. Slipping a hand free, she managed to get to the pouch that was always on her hip. Reaching a couple fingers inside, she felt the lesser soul gem and grabbed it. 

Somehow she managed to free her hand without dropping it, and since all the men were up front and not watching her, she tossed the gem underhanded and watched it bounce into the path behind them. That was the best she could do for a clue as to where she had gone, and so she took a deep breath to center herself and wriggled her arm back into the ropes. Sitting back against the side of the wagon, she closed her eyes and prayed Vilkas would find it and her in time.

There was no knowing what was going to happen, and if she couldn’t escape these men she hoped Vilkas would find a way to get her to safety without her dying. With that, she resigned herself to her current fate, steeling herself against what was to come. Hardening her heart, she tucked her softer emotions away while sharpening Thu’ums in her mind to help her get away. She was going to need every trick she knew to survive this.

Especially now that she was going to have a baby.


	13. Plot

The day should have been like any other. He knew the instant something was wrong when he heard the sound of the unrelenting force, and he bolted out of bed. Scrambling to put on breeches, he ran barefooted down the stairs and out the front door. Brilliant sunshine pelted his body as he ran down the front steps, and he turned towards the stable.

Empty. The horses were there, of course, acting wildly. But aside from some vomit on the ground, the place was empty. Aelinna was nowhere to be found, and after what he’d heard, that was a bad thing. Turning, he saw marks in the earth that denoted a struggle had taken place. His eyes scanned quizzically, noting tufts of uprooted grass from the Thu’um.

Drawing slowly towards the heart of the marks, he attempted to puzzle out what had happened. A bit of light glinting into his eye drew his attention, and he looked in the direction of the road. There, lying in the dirt, was an errant soul gem. A lesser one, by the looks of it, but one nonetheless. It had no business being there, and as his eyes tracked the faint trail of wagon wheels, he realized it was a breadcrumb. 

Aelinna must have found a way to leave it for him, a clue for him to follow. Rushing over to it, he picked it up and looked it over. The gem was fine, empty but gleaming wickedly. Vilkas looked back at where it had fallen, then at the road where he could kind of see the trail leading off into the woods. So, somehow the DragonBorn had thought to leave enough of a clue, which meant she’d been conscious when she’d been taken.

That was good, at least. Now he had a problem on his hands, aside from his lover being kidnapped. Should he try to go after her alone, or get some help? While it would be faster to try and pursue her captors solo, it may very well be wiser to get a party to give him backup in the event that she’d been taken by many people. 

“Shor’s beard!” he cursed, turning around and heading back into the house. He went and grabbed his armor, finally clean and the sharpened Wuuthrad from the chair it had been resting on. With that he went back outside, slapping food and supplies into the saddlebags on his stallion, then riding out of the stable heading straight towards Whiterun.

His anger burned bright and hot, but underneath that was fear. Fear for who could have taken her, and why now. She had been bait as agreed upon, but they hadn’t really left Lakeview Manor for some time now. Had they been tracked here? It didn’t make sense. For one to be bait, she would have to have traveled to… his thoughts trailed off as he snapped the reins to move the horse into a gallop.

There was only one place they’d gone since holing up as lovers. Vilkas began to piece together the information Balgruuf had given them, and his anger deepened. He wasn’t sure yet, he didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle, but he had an idea who was behind this. And he didn’t like it. Moving fast across the countryside, he made it to Whiterun in hours with the horse nearly ridden into the ground.

Jumping off the mount, he tossed a handful of gold at the surprised and irate stable hands, then tossed a bag at another one to convey he intended to buy a new horse. This calmed the angry men while he rushed past, all but running towards the main gates and inside. His eyes were hardened, and he didn’t notice that the townspeople were moving away from him in fright.

He looked very intimidating as he moved, the paint like storm clouds on his face while the scowl twisting his lips threatened to call down the very gods. Stomping up the first set of steps, he rushed past the main square, pushing past a guard who looked startled before seeing the wolf armor flashing in the sun and decided against pursuing it. The Companions only moved with purpose when they had a good reason to, and it was always a very good reason. 

In his haste he didn’t realize that he had raced right past Aela, who was holding baskets of food next to Rayya and Lucia. Lucia hugged her new doll to her chest, staring after Vilkas with a mingled expression of surprise and terror. Rayya gripped her hand tighter, shifting the basket of leathers and potions higher in her other hand. The two women shared a look, then resumed their shopping. 

Whatever was going on, they’d clearly be in the way so they decided to just wait it out at Jorrvaskr. Lucia was a good girl, didn’t whine about it, but she did ask for a treat so Rayya indulged her with a sweetroll while Vilkas made his way to Dragonsreach and slammed inside the doors. 

“What’s this ruckus?” Jarl Balgruuf boomed out as the doors hammered closed. Vilkas all but ran his way across the hall, paying no heed to whomever may be nearby as he went up the stairs, past the tables, and up the stairs to the dais where Balgruuf was sitting on his throne. He ignored the challenge, deciding what he had to say was a much more pressing matter.

“My lord,” he panted, shooting a glare at Irileth before she could interrupt him. “The Thane has been kidnapped.”

“WHAT?!” Balgruuf shouted, and it seemed as though he had the power of the Thu’um himself. His palpable temper caused the words to reverberate off of the walls as surely as if he’d used the tongue of the dovah, but it was only mortal sound. To his credit, Vilkas didn’t even flinch as Balgruuf the Greater shot to his feet, striding forward to stand toe-to-toe with him and glare into his eyes. 

They were evenly matched in height, but Vilkas knew that in a fight Balgruuf could very likely take him. Let alone the fact that Irileth would join in the fray and have his head for breakfast. The Jarl looked like he was tempted to draw steel, and he took a careful breath before speaking again. 

“I thought I ordered you to stay by her side no matter what,” Balgruuf hissed, his teeth clenched and a muscle jumping in his jaw. Vilkas stared the other man down, even with the knowledge that doing so could be a very dangerous mistake. 

“She was taken while tending to the horses in the stable,” he replied without hesitation. “Surely I cannot be held responsible for that when I was asleep in bed.”

Balgruuf glowered, working his jaw without speaking for several moments. At last he stepped back, turning to face his steward slightly and conveying to the room at large he was not going to attack the Companion. Vilkas stood tall, unafraid of the man though he really should be. “Do you know where she was taken?” he asked finally, his tone considerably quieter than before.

“No,” Vilkas said, taking great care not to reveal his emotions on his face. The knowledge that he had no idea where she was, it was both terrifying and despairing. Balgruuf turned to face him again, sensing a ‘but’ coming from him. 

“But I did get a single clue from her,” he added as an afterthought, realizing what he’d spotted when trying to track how she’d been taken. The Jarl arched an eyebrow, waiting for the man to continue. 

“There were wagon tracks in the earth, heading into the woods away from Lakeview Manor.” 

The blond nodded, looking thoughtful as he glanced over at Irileth. The Dunmer came forward, brandishing a map. Together the trio headed to one of the tables, paying no mind to the others since this was a matter of urgency. Irileth spread the parchment over the wood, and after shifting the candelabras around, they had plenty of light to stare over the province of Skyrim. 

Vilkas tapped on the map, pointing out the location of Lakeview Manor as just past Pinewatch. From there they looked over the boundaries of the holds, trying to decide which place was the most likely that a gang would hole up with the DragonBorn. Slowly, they eliminated holds that would require a great deal of travel, like Haafingar, Hjaalmarch, Eastmarch, the Pale, the Reach, and Winterhold.

Balgruuf eliminated Whiterun, as it would be too close to him and since the intent was to bring him down, the enemy wouldn’t camp in the hold he had dominion over. They leaned closer to the map as they realized that left Falkreath and the Rift. 

“It’s not likely they’d go over the pass to Treva’s Watch or beyond,” Balgruuf said at length, tracing his finger across the map. “The Thieves Guild owns Riften and the area closest to it, and straying too far north puts you in dragon territory.” he shifted his attention to Falkreath hold, and absently stroked his chin. 

“This is harder to determine, since that’s the hold she was abducted from,” he muttered, not really talking to anyone in particular. “It’s possible they’d head towards Eastmarch, but I’d doubt they’d go past Sunderstone Gorge.” With that he looked back again, peering at the names of places and groves and camps. 

“There’s just too many possibilities on where they would go,” Vilkas said dejectedly, feeling terror squeeze his heart into apathy. 

“Don’t give up hope yet, Companion,” Irileth said, also staring down at the map in the hopes of discerning a likely location that the group had gone to. “We will figure this out, and bring the wrath of Dragonsreach upon them.”

Vilkas nodded, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes as he squinted at the parchment. “Perhaps we should look into caverns and grottos,” he suggested, sighing. “They would make good hideouts aside from the beasts living within them.”

Irileth leaned forward and counted. “If we ignore Sunderstone Gorge, Glenmoril Coven, and Treva’s Watch, that leaves twelve locations,” she began, trailing off. “That’s better than the fifty or so we had before.” Twelve was still a hell of a lot, but she was right it was better. 

Balgruuf looked closer, frowning. “Eliminate the grottos, how many does that leave us?” he asked, not looking up. 

“Ten,” Irileth replied.

“Eliminate the passes and passages,” Balgruuf pressed, placing his hands on the table and leaning forwards. 

Irileth stared up at him. “Seven.” 

“And the ruins?” He seemed like he was narrowing in on something, and Vilkas and Irileth both picked up on it. 

“Five.” 

Balgruuf flicked his eyes over to Vilkas, and the Companion felt what seemed like a spark of hope had burst into his chest, filling him with purpose. “Name them,” he commanded, looking back at the map.

“Moss Mother Cavern, Halldir’s Cairn, Southfringe Sanctum, Haemar’s Shame, and Honeystrand Cave,” Irileth recited, feeling like her lord was definitely onto something. 

“They won’t be in Halldir’s Cairn,” Vilkas said, surprising the other two.

“Why not?” Irileth asked, her eyes jumping to his.

“Farkas took the DragonBorn there when she was an applicant to the Companions, and it was full of Draugr,” he explained, and they both nodded. That left just four places to search, although it was easy to say that the gang was unlikely to hole up in the sanctum either. After much deliberation it was decided that Haemar’s shame was unlikely, which left just two places to search: Moss Mother Cavern and Honeystrand Cave. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The wagon creaked to a stop outside the cavern, and the men came around back and hauled Aelinna out. As her feet touched the ground her legs buckled, but she was jerked roughly to her feet and made to walk inside. She was surrounded on all sides by men, but the gag around her mouth reminded her to remain silent. 

The group entered the cavern, making short work of anything inside before moving into the heart of the place. It was decided to make camp near the waterfall, since it was a good location to hide in as well as scout out who may try to come in after them. Aelinna was not-quite-shoved onto a spot besides the pool of water, where she remained since it was out of the way of the others.

She watched them setting up tents and bedrolls, and winced as the rough cloth chafed her lips. It would have been quite easy to simply yank it off, but she was outnumbered and would likely become greatly wounded in a fight since she had no armor on whatsoever. Now that she had someone else to think about, she was much more cautious about things.

Not to say she hadn’t been cautious before, but if she wasn’t presently carrying a babe, the odds were good she would have tried to fight her way out anyways and take off to safety. For now, it was best to sit tight and see what was going to happen next. The bounty on her life was one thing, but since it didn’t seem like the bandits had any plans to kill her anytime soon she wondered what the next step was. 

Aelinna must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she knew a hand on her shoulder was shaking her awake. As her golden eyes opened, she was momentarily disoriented and confused as she was hauled to her feet once again. A red haired man was pulling her along by the upper arm, but his grip wasn’t like the ones who’d grabbed her before. It was firm, but almost gentle at the same time. 

He didn’t speak as he dragged her along the camp, but he pushed her onto some fallen logs with the care of someone who didn’t actually want to cause her any harm. This confused her greatly, but Aelinna was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. Any ally in this situation was better than nothing. As she looked up at him, he grabbed the rag and tugged it off of her face.

With that he wandered off, and Aelinna stared after him. Did that mean he was trying to help her get free? Or was there something else at play here? Craning her head to watch his departing form, she was completely unaware that someone else was now approaching her. It was the sound of footsteps that got her attention, and she turned her head to see who it was.

Aelinna nearly fell off the logs in shock. Standing a few feet away was the last person she expected to find in here, and the sheer surprise of it meant she failed to realize the trap she had fallen into. Before her was the man who had ordered the hit on her life, the man who was trying to instrument her demise in order to bring another Jarl to heel.

“I see you’re short-sighted as usual,” he drawled, his tone contemptuous. “When I made you my thane I expected more from someone who’d dispatched useless goons for me without question.”

Aelinna growled at him, her eyes flashing anger. “Jarl Siddgeir,” she hissed. “What in the name of the Nine have you done?”

“Now now, my dear,” Siddgeir chastised, wagging a finger at her as sunlight reflected off of the waterfall and the circlet adorning his brow. “I have done nothing more than use you as the pawn you are, and I intend to follow through with it.”

“What are you going to do?” Aelinna demanded, fear creeping across her belly and slithering up her spine.

“Patience,” he replied, then turned away from her and walked over to the bandit chief, who’d been watching their little exchange. “Make sure she eats and drinks, but don’t let her escape. We need her, for the time being,” he instructed, then vanished into the foliage.

“Bastard!” Aelinna shouted at his back. “You milk drinking sop! You’ll pay for this!” the echoes of chuckling came back to her, and she seethed inwardly since at the moment she was somewhat helpless. While she was not physically bound, it was clear this was simply to show her who was truly in charge here, and that escape would be pointless. 

Her rage burned hot in her chest, but she obeyed when the red-headed man from before returned to escort her to a bedroll closest to the falls. He sat her down there, then laid down on another roll nearby. So, they didn’t intend to have her in the actual camp in case she got the drop on them, she surmised angrily. Just leave her exposed here, by the water with a guard. She bristled with the desire to kill them all and be on her way, but she needed to know what Siddgeir was up to. 

For now she was just going to have to be their prisoner, as much as she didn’t like it. Laying down on her bedroll, she drew the thin blanket up over herself, curling into a ball facing away from the falls and trying to get some sleep. She was strangely exhausted even though she really hadn’t done that much. Just as she was falling asleep, a tiny smile crossed her face as she thought about the baby. Whoever he or she will be, they would be fiercely loved by both mother and father. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Jarl Siddgeir strolled outside of the cave, relishing the feel of sunlight on his skin as his plan finally fell into motion. His twit of a Thane had been surprisingly hard to find, but when she’d gotten complacent his men had tracked her down. Now all he had to do was to get that fool Balgruuf to dance on his string like the puppet he was, then he could start on the path to his true goal: being High King of Skyrim. 

Of course, that meant killing either Ulfric or General Tullius, but that didn’t bother him one bit. He’d shed plenty of blood before he became a Jarl, and he’d spill plenty more on his quest for ultimate power. Getting his hands dirty was something he was familiar with, and he smirked as he glanced back at the entrance, picturing his Thane down there. 

She was a helpless captive now, and while it had been tempting to defile her he felt it would be best she played out her part before dying. After all, she was the jewel in his crown as he assembled the pieces. While he didn’t hold her intelligence in high regard, the reports of how she fought in battle had earned a modicum of respect from him. 

The woman was damned deadly with a bow, he had to give her that. Knowing that the first chance she got she’d try to kill him, Siddgeir daydreamed about all the ways he’d kill her to satisfy his blood lust. All of the methods were public, of course. He would make an example of her, showing Skyrim both how ruthless and merciful he could be. 

Siddgeir all but squealed in glee as he imagined the sensation of Aelinna’s lifeblood pouring through his fingers as she gasped her last in his grip. The plethora of emotions flowed through him as his mind’s eye made the images so clear as to actually be happening, and he felt his body respond like that of a true Nord warrior.

He cupped himself, toying with the ideas of her demise while walking back to the hidden carriage that would take him back to Falkreath. Dropping his hand before the driver spotted him, he hopped in back and rode away. Laughter floated on the wind back to the guards posted outside the entrance, and the two men glanced at each other before returning to their sentinel stance. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Balgruuf was speaking to his men, soldiers he’d gathered within the walls of Dragonsreach. Since it was down to two different locations in two different holds, the general plan was to split into groups and search both locations. That way if team A failed to turn up the DragonBorn, team B might very well find her.

It was a lot easier than going to the places one at a time, and a lot faster as well. Although it would likely take a few days to reach them, Balgruuf was confident he would find his Thane before the month’s end. Giving last minute instructions, he turned to Vilkas and assigned him to the group that would be heading to Moss Mother Cavern.

A fierce fighter was assigned to the group heading to Honeystrand Cave, and from there they were dismissed to head out on their journey at once. There was no time to waste, and every moment Aelinna was in the hands of the enemy, there was a possibility of unspeakable things being done to her. 

Vilkas swallowed down these dark thoughts, then signaled the platoon of five men to follow him out. The other squadron followed them, and together the ten men headed down towards the main square with the intent of heading out of the city. The rhythmic stomping of their mailed feet drew the attention of many onlookers, but none spoke out as the soldiers passed by.

They were just passing Breezehome when they were intercepted by Aela. she’d been coming back from Warmaiden’s with a new dagger when she spotted her shield-brother and stepped into his path. Vilkas pursed his lips, sighing through his nose as he recognized her stubborn streak. Thankfully her wolf was asleep, judging by the color of her eyes, or this would have been incredibly awkward.

“Where are you going with these troops, brother?” she asked, her tone brooking no laughing matter. He knew that she was both confused and worried, which meant she was more brusk than usual. 

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” he said simply, and held up a hand to pause the interruption before it could pass her lips. “It’s a matter of life and death, Aela, and I have no time to explain it.” With that he continued walking, the regiment right behind him as they marched out of Whiterun and into the wilds of Skyrim. 

“Ysmir guide you,” Aela said to the wind, watching her shield-brother and his troops disappear beyond the gates of the city. A gust of wind flipped locks of her crimson hair across her face, and she brushed some of it behind an ear while murmuring an ancient blessing of luck and fortune for him. With that she turned to head back to Jorrvaskr, hoping beyond hope he would succeed in whatever this mission was.


	14. Monster

Hoofbeats pounded at the earth as Vilkas traveled along the countryside, trailed by his men. Desperation thudded in his heart, but he hoped beyond hope that he was going the right way. The other squadron had been sent to another hold entirely, and only time would tell if they had chosen correctly. 

It had been two days already, since the Nord men insisted on stopping every night to make camp. Vilkas hadn’t argued, even though every fiber within him screamed that he should. To keep going until either horse or rider dropped, though he knew that was incredibly stupid. It was the training that kept him in check, and he was grateful for it.

His sleep was uneasy when it did come, full of nightmares of horrific things that haunted his daylight hours. It had been only too easy to dispatch the bandits that tried to ambush their party, and his blood had run hot when he felt the splash of victory against them as he violently stole their lives. If he’d still been a wolf, he would have gladly feasted on their flesh.

When the third day dawned after a hard ride and a sleep thankfully devoid of dreams, Vilkas was first to the main fire that burned merrily. In what seemed like no time at all he had breakfast going, ensuring there was enough for everyone before sitting down with his own bowl. He shoveled spoonfuls of stew into his mouth, barely tasting it.

Finished quite rapidly with his meal, Vilkas uncorked and guzzled some ale before putting his dishes away, and going to his bedroll to break camp. Rolling up the leather swiftly, he had it and everything else packed up on his horse before the others were even awake. With all that said and done, Vilkas decided a good jog may help to burn off this excessive energy and give his men time to get up and eat before they set off again.

He chose to do a wide circle around the camp, keeping the fire within eyesight as he jogged through the brush and trees. Birds chirped and whistled as he moved, and by the time he had hit his fourth lap, he was feeling tired enough to return and mount his horse. Thankfully the rest of the men were up and either having breakfast or getting ready to leave, so he jumped on his mount without any problems. 

It was hard not to ride recklessly, but he managed to keep himself under control. He felt the words of Kodlak in his thoughts, cautioning him and cooling his temper. Jergen may not have done much, since he’d left for war and never returned, but nevertheless in his mind both men were father to him. 

For a moment his heart ached, missing the old Harbinger who’d counseled him so wisely over the years when he needed it. The memories were good, but were quickly overrun with memories of Aelinna. The first time he’d met her, their first battles. A friendship forming as he had her do missions for the Companions, then later her ascension after they avenged Kodlak and went to Ysgramor’s tomb. 

Seeing her truly as a woman for the first time at the lake, their first kiss, the first time they’d made love. With a start Vilkas realized somewhere along the way he’d fallen head over heels for her, and the jolt on the reins startled his horse a little bit. Tavi gave a scolding whicker, sidestepping a bit before continuing in his rolling canter as Vilkas patted his neck in apology. 

The realization made it all the more important that he find her, before something happened. If she was sent to Sovngarde before he could see her again, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t live without her, that much was now clear. Snapping the reins, he moved Tavi into a gallop as he shot over the countryside. 

Some hours later, he pulled back on the reins, coming to a stop. They’d been traveling along a lake, with a fog rolling in and making everything hazy. His second-in-command rode up next to him, confused. “There’s a cave. Animals or bandits inside, no doubt,” Vilkas said to him, and the other man nodded. “I believe that’s Moss Mother Cavern,” Starimir Bulwark replied, gesturing to the entrance.

They had finally reached their destination. The sun was low in the sky, and with the fog now covering the banks they would have an advantage to sneaking inside. Dismounting, the squadron left the horses nearby, concealed by bushes and trees to make a fast escape. With that they trekked back to the entrance, determining the best methods of getting inside. 

Reading the maps, a plan was formulated on how to best approach the camp whilst avoiding being discovered. It was agreed that stealth would be the smartest method, and since Vilkas was handy with a bow he would lead the advance scouts with the heavy hitters bringing up the rear. With everything settled, they grabbed their weapons and slowly entered the cavern.

They moved down the first passageway, making as little sound as possible. Just as Vilkas breached the entryway into the first clearing, he had spotted some guards at the far end before his attention was grabbed by motion out of the corner of his eye. Leaning against a wall was a figure clad in Dark Brotherhood armor, a man if he'd hazard a guess. Vilkas narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his bow.

The man straightened casually, then made a few gestures. The first was a finger to his lips, calling for silence. As Vilkas watched, the man then held two fingers in front of his chest and then rotated his wrist to point behind him with his thumb. That much made sense, there must be two men behind him. The man then gestured for Vilkas to follow him, and turned away. Vilkas took a cautious step forward, not quite sure what to make of this new situation.

Everyone knew that the Dark Brotherhood were assassins, so one being here was highly unusual. There was no way the black sacrament had been performed, Jarl Balgruuf had been sure of it. Vilkas was unaware that the man was performing magic until he vanished in front of him. It took more than a little of his training not to cry out in surprise.

He stood still, his bow aimed towards the ground with an arrow notched. He didn't want to hit the man by accident and earn a quick one-way trip to Sovngarde. After a few seconds he started forwards again, heading towards where the path went down and under a log with two pathways on the left and right that seemed to be ledges. Raising his bow to shoot the first bandit guard, Vilkas saw the edge of a blade appear out of the man's throat. Shock caused him to lower the weapon, watching the man fall down dead almost soundlessly.

Several seconds later the other man had blood erupt from his throat as a wicked slash appeared, then he fell dead as well. With that he decided that this was the best time to fan out. Turning around, Vilkas gestured for the squadron to follow him, pointing to the ledge on the right and motioning for the heavy hitters to follow him down under the log.

The archers crept down their assigned path, bows at the ready. Just as they made it down the winding path into the main cavern, the sounds of shouting and clashing metal filled his ears. Vilkas put away his bow, drawing Wuuthrad from his back. The assassin must have been discovered, as the sounds of battle began making their way towards him.

Arrows flew overheard as the archers started making potshots from their concealed positions. Battle was always chaotic, and this one was no different. It seemed like bandits were everywhere, and Vilkas was unable to get an accurate headcount. With that he summoned the others, and they rushed into the fray while Vilkas tried to assess their situation.

It was difficult as he moved forward, swinging the mighty axe like he'd been born for it. A bandit rushed him from somewhere behind him, hitting him in the left side. “By Ysmir, you'll pay for that!” he roared, twisting around and swinging the blade so hard and fast he nearly took the man's head off. As another one ran in, yelling how he was a snowback, Vilkas snarled and sunk Wuuthrad deep into the bandit's chest.

Two down, several more to go. The terrain didn't make it much easier to navigate the room, with uneven ground and trees blocking the sight line of just about every path he could see. Bushes scattered around helped to hinder his ability to see more than a dozen feet, and he knew this was going to be a hell of a fight. The sound of a waterfall somewhere ahead added to the din, and Vilkas moved carefully and quickly.

With everything going to Hel in a handbasket, Vilkas didn't notice the bandit chief run someone through with his sword, nor did he see that his men were winning the battle. He was just trying to stay alive while looking for the DragonBorn, praying to the Nine that she was still among the living. He couldn't hear her, but he could hear various shouts and screams of pain.

Yanking Wuuthrad out of his last victim, the blood splashed across his armor and struck his face. Grimacing slightly, he sheathed the blade on his back to be cleaned later. Everything had died down, all the bandits but the chief himself were dead. The chief was being held for questioning before he himself was set to die, waiting for Vilkas' orders.

Making his way over to the man, kneeling between two of the soldiers with hands on the chief's shoulders keeping him down, Vilkas stared down coldly with a clenched jaw before speaking. “Where is the DragonBorn?” he asked, his words terse and clipped while he struggled with his temper.

“I'm right here.”

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Morning sickness was not kind to Aelinna. Each morning she was sick, but her nausea tended to last most of the day. Thankfully the group of men holding her captive merely thought she was ill, and supplied her with minor healing potions to keep her strength up. The man who'd been assigned to watch her directly helped her eat, holding the spoon to her lips when she'd been unable to.

After three days and two aborted escape attempts, Aelinna had found there was only one way in and out of this place, and it was going to be incredibly difficult sneaking past all the bandits to run away. While it would have been so much easier to just use one of the Thu'ums to keep the men at bay, her fear that she would be taken down with arrows to her unarmored body kept her from doing so.

While she'd been resting against the guard named Jurmund Red-Bear, as he wiped her face clean of her latest purge of anything in her belly, she wondered how long she was going to be here. Since the cavern had a natural opening above the pool of water, she could see the shifting of lights in the sky letting her know the passage of time.

Gentle hands that were roughly callused wrapped around her waist, picking her up. “Jurmund, put me down,” she complained, weakly batting at his chest with an arm.

“Nonsense. I need to move you over here, and give you a potion,” he replied without missing a beat, the braids in his hair jingling slightly as they moved across his shoulders.

Aelinna made a face, but after three days of this she had decided to let him do whatever he wanted so that way she would be left alone faster. Placing her gently on her bedroll, Jurmund walked over to his a few feet away, rummaged in a bag, then came back to her. Sitting down behind her head, he pulled her halfway into his lap. Bracing her head against his belly, he uncorked the potion and held it in front of her. “Drink,” he commanded, waiting.

Aelinna sighed, taking the bottle and drinking it carefully. Feeling the effects of the minor healing work its way through her body, she relaxed against the bandit out of habit more than anything else. “Why are you so nice to me anyways?” she asked him at length, too tired to get up. Her eyes drifted closed as sleep threatened to take her, but she was listening for now.

“Just because I take money and objects from people doesn't mean I want them dead,” he replied, looking off into space. “I agreed to join this group of bandits to earn some coin and get back at a few people, but I didn't sign on to go killing any Thanes.” His hair gleamed like copper in the firelight, and Aelinna found herself wondering if that hair was anywhere else on his body.

She chuckled, finding the heat from his body to be soothing after spending two nights on the cold ground wrapped in hides. It was probably a bad idea to be so friendly with a bandit, but he hadn't taken anything from her and was a hell of a lot nicer than the other ones were. He seemed to actually care about what happened to her, which she latched onto like a security blanket.

As the sun was going down, she drifted off to sleep against him, and he absently petted her hair like one might a beloved dog. For now it was quiet and peaceful, until a shout filled the air. Aelinna jerked awake, and before she knew it she was on her feet and running. Jumping onto a nearby ledge, she crept down the path covered by the trees until she was by the tunnel entrance.

Noting that the shout was from a man who was profusely shaking his hand like he'd been burned, Aelinna realized that the timely distraction was a perfect chance for her to make her escape for real this time. She never saw the assassin run past her position, but she heard the sounds of shouting and steel ringing on steel. Whatever was going on, it was definitely time to get out of here.

She'd been ready to hop down when several men ran past, yelling loudly while arrows sailed overhead. A raid. Shit. Craning her head around she figured out where the likely spots the archers would be, across from her and on the other ledge. With that she backed up, turned around, and crept back to the other end.

Hopping down, she began to dart towards the center of camp when a hand clamped down on her wrist. “Where do you think you're going?” Jurmund hissed, glaring at her. Aelinna looked back, a frown furrowing her face. He should know that she was getting the hell out of here, and not trying to stop her. Uneasiness slid down her spine as she stared up at the man she thought she had known.

“I'm leaving,” she stated, and felt the pressure increase around her wrist.

“What makes you think you're getting out of here alive?” Jurmund taunted, his face twisting into something she couldn't recognize. Aelinna realized she had made a grave mistake letting her guard down around him, and she was about to pay for it. He pulled an elven dagger out from the scabbard at his waist, holding it up so she could see it in the light reflected from the waterfall.

Her eyes flicked from it back to him, and tugged on her arm to see if she could get it free. The sounds of battle around them grew louder, but for the moment they were undiscovered. He grinned slowly at her when he tightened his hand still further, and while she tugged fruitlessly to escape him, moved the dagger so that way he could yank her to him and stab her in the heart.

He failed to take into account that Aelinna wasn't stupid, and being pregnant made her prone to an unusual desperation. With a mighty effort she pivoted her body back and yanked on her arm, hard, knocking Jurmund off balance and pulling him towards her before he could recover. “Fus Ro Dah!” she hissed, the energy exploding from her as her somewhat quiet Thu'um was absorbed by the sound of the rushing waterfall and Jurmund was thrown back into the wall.

Not wasting any time, Aelinna picked up the dagger and rushed forwards as Jurmund slid to the ground. Before he could get up she sank the blade down to the hilt, killing him instantly as it pierced his heart. Jurmund went to Sovngarde without any further preamble, dying with only a few gurgles on his lips.

Satisfied, Aelinna dropped the dagger and turned away. With the sounds of battle dying out, she figured she had a distinctly better chance of escaping now. Making her way to the center of camp, she noted two men holding a third one on his knees, and a fourth stood with his back to her. Blinking several times, she realized it was none other than Vilkas, though how or why she couldn't quite comprehend.

“Where is the DragonBorn?” he asked, and the words sounded harsh to her ears. Before the chief could respond to him, she spoke up.

“I'm right here,” she said, watching as he spun around to face her. The recognition in his eyes warmed her heart, and he rushed forwards and grabbed her in an embrace, holding her tightly to him. His scent filled her nostrils, bringing joy and relief that he had found her.

“Aelinna,” he breathed, burying his face in her hair. “I thought I'd lost you.” She smiled, after three days of dealing with bandits his voice was like heaven to her. He drew her back to look her over, then squeezed her into a hug again. When it felt like her ribs were going to break she squeaked in protest, and Vilkas let her go.

“I'm fine, really,” she said softly, subconsciously resting a hand on her lower belly. “They roughed me up a little, but once I stopped fighting back they quit.” Vilkas looked confused, then peered closer at her. There were a couple scrapes here and there, but they were old and clearly healing. His face darkened as he thought of the scene he'd seen in the dirt, and turned back to the bandit chief.

“What's that?” Aelinna asked, and he looked back at her in confusion. Spying a hand pointing at him, Vilkas looked down at his armor. There, splashed against the silver like charred soot, was a hand print. His bewilderment was palpable as she drew closer to him, and as he shifted again felt something rustling.

Reaching up under his breastplate, his fingers closed on what felt like parchment. As he pulled out the folded paper, realization struck Aelinna and her face went pale. He unfolded it, then read aloud the single line written on it. “We protect our own.”

Questioning eyes lifted to hers as she felt something in the pocket of her dress rubbing against her. Pulling out her own piece of paper, she unfolded it to reveal a second hand print and the words _Meet us where you made your first_ printed on it. Aelinna fainted, the paper fluttering from her fingers like a stray moth illuminated by the bonfire flames.

Vilkas caught her, lifting her easily since she was sans armor. Carrying her over to the entryway, he carefully put her down then returned to the chief. Putting her on horseback was just going to have to wait, since he still had a bone to pick with the bandit. His eyes flashed, temper rising again as he looked at the milk-drinker who had harmed his woman.

“Who hired you?” he queried, his voice dangerously soft as he looked down at the scum of a man. The bandit chief smirked as he looked back up at the warrior, not realizing that he was staring at one of the legendary Companions, one that was a member of the Circle to boot. That mistake would prove to be his last.

“Why should I tell you?” the chief countered, a haughtiness creeping into his voice. “You got yer woman back, after we were done with her of course.” He was lying, of course, his men hadn't touched her beyond wiping her face after being sick, but he was banking on this guy not knowing that.

He laughed as Vilkas' fist connected with his face. He'd struck a nerve for sure. “Oh yeah, she's a real woman--” his words were cut off by the second blow, and as the chief swung around again, he spat blood onto the grass as the hands kept him on his knees. He cackled again, knowing that his words were having the desired effect. “I think you missed out, we took turns all night long--”

That blow was hard enough the chief was knocked flat on the ground, and his jaw bloomed with a bruise and a bit of blood since the skin split upon impact. Spitting more blood he felt the laughter bubbling out like wine, though a part of him wondered if he was going insane. “Enough talk. Who hired you?” Vilkas asked again, shaking out his hands from the pain in his knuckles.

As the bandit chief sat up, his eyes gleamed while grinning a decidedly crimson smile at the other man. “I ain't gonna talk, 'cept about how yer woman moaned like the whore she is,” he said, and had the satisfaction of seeing Vilkas' jaw clench and a hand go to his axe. He drew Wuuthrad slowly, the drying redness dripping from the blade here and there.

The bandit chief paled. That was a big weapon, and the way this guy held it, he may very well be a master and he'd just pissed him off. “I'm going to ask you one more time, and then we're going to go beyond talking like civilized men,” Vilkas said calmly, but the rage flowed through him like fire. It burned through him, revitalizing his energy and tainting his vision with a faint redness that he remembered from his werewolf days.

“Who hired you?”

His words were strained, and there was a sensation of growling within them. The wolf might be gone, but his body remembered all too well what the beast felt like and embraced it like an old friend. A trick of the firelight dancing across his bloodstained face made his silvery eyes gleam amber yellow, but to the bandit chief, this wasn't a man. This was a beast in human form, one he'd pushed too far.

“I ain't talkin',” the bandit chief vowed, while fear whispered up his spine; settling into his gut like spoiled fish suddenly gone rotten. His defiance was foolish but admirable, and the men who were looking at Vilkas realized at that moment that the rumors surrounding the Companions for hundreds of years may very well be true. With that they let the chief go, backing up considerably with terror crossing their faces.

Vilkas idly lifted Wuuthrad, letting the firelight reflect off the edge of blade. He checked its sharpness with a thumb while he waited, the anger within him urging to get this charade over with and really get the show going. Noting that the blade was sharp enough to do the job, but would need a whetstone later, he very slowly grinned wolfishly at the bandit.

“You're going to wish you had,” Vilkas assured him, his words no louder than a murmur; but the growling remained as he almost swore he could taste the other man's fear. His blood lust awakened, which he'd thought had been put to rest forever when he'd slain the wolf spirit inhabiting his body.

Kneeling in front of the chief, he braced a hand on the handle of his axe as he grinned at the frightened bandit. "I'll carve you into pieces," he sibilated, “and then I'll rip your heart out.” With that he stood, hefting Wuuthrad aloft while staring down at his prey. The chief looked like he was staring death in the face, and he wasn't wrong. Vilkas had every intention of killing him.

No point in keeping the man alive if he wasn't going to provide the information he needed. Raising the axe high above his head, he swung it downward with no more effort than if he was chopping logs. As a master of two handed weapons, the ease of his movements belied the subtle motions in his abdomen and legs to compensate for the heaviness of the weapon as it sliced through the air.

It bit through the man's leg above the knee, severing the limb cleanly. Screams of pain and terror filled the air, but Vilkas was unmoved by the cries of fear and the pleas for mercy. He swung over and over until the man was quiet, then stooped over the torso and used his blade to do as promised and carved open the ribs.

Once he got to the still beating heart, he pulled out a knife and slashed until he lifted it like a choice prize. Temptation overwhelmed him, and he bit into it like it was the freshest of apples. The coppery taste of blood exploded on his tongue, and while he retched he forced the bite down as if he was a wolf once again.

With that he straightened and chucked the heart into the bonfire, then slung Wuuthrad across his back, striding over to where he had left Aelinna and picking her up. Without any hesitation he headed out of the cave, the men following him in complete silence as they tried to process what they had just witnessed.

Vilkas wasn't just a man. He was a monster.


	15. Betrayal

Vilkas held Aelinna in his arms on his horse, her head lolling against him while he adjusted it so she wouldn’t get injured on the ride back. He didn’t want to let go of her, and since his squadron was currently terrified of him they didn’t question it. With his temper cooled and the echo of the beast sleeping again, he contemplated the consequences of his actions.

No one would question that he had acted within his rights, that the orders were to retrieve the Thane of Whiterun; preferably alive. No one would question that the bandit chief had to die, Nords killed each other for a lot less. But he had gone somewhere he’d promised himself that he’d never go again.

When he’d been a werewolf it had been hard to maintain control over the beast, to keep his humanity from being consumed. Now he’d gone there willingly, all because of words said to him. Words that hurt, yes, but he’d leveled many insults before. He shifted Aelinna in his arms while holding Tavi to a gentler pace. 

Perhaps it was because of the insinuations of what had been done to Aelinna’s body. Thinking back to when he’d seen her at the camp, he went over her words carefully. She’d said they had stopped hurting her when she’d stopped fighting back, and he took that to mean when she’d initially been taken. Did she mean…?

His mind skittered away from the rest of that thought. If that had been done to her, surely she would have told him. Wouldn’t she? Doubt gnawed at him like a skeever on a bone for the rest of the way, and it was deep in the night when they stopped to make camp. Aelinna woke up when Vilkas placed her on a bedroll near the fire, and he was more tender than usual caring for her.

Confusion filled her at first, then when a bowl of simple soup was handed to her, she found herself to be ravenous. Quickly eating the first bowl, a second one was handed to her and she had finished that one too within a rapid amount of time. From there she was given a bit of bread and a bottle of mead, and she was finally full. 

Vilkas sat down next to her while the men milled around uneasily, talking quietly among themselves while the Companion took solace in the company of his love. She noticed this, but her attention was mostly on him. “Why are you acting so strange?” she murmured, sighing with a mixture of relief and relaxation. 

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Aelinna...” he began, fidgeting a bit. “Were you… in any way… uh...” he cleared his throat. “Were you…” Aelinna was staring at him now, which wasn’t helping the awkward question he needed to ask. “...taken?” There wasn’t any nicer way to say it, and he couldn’t bring himself to be that blunt with her.

It took a few moments for understanding to dawn on her. She inhaled sharply, but the look on her face told him everything he needed to know before she said it. “No,” she replied softly. “They never touched me, beyond wiping my face when I was ill.” While her words bolstered his heart, they tore his soul into pieces. The man had lied, and he had committed monstrosities because of it. 

He looked away from her then, chafing in her presence. “Did someone tell you that they did?” she asked, her words barely audible over the sound of the flames. 

“Yeah.”

She reached out, touching his shoulder. She knew better than anyone here how he had struggled with his wolf, and she would be the most forgiving. Maybe. “What did you do?” she inquired, trying to look him in the eye and failing since he wouldn’t meet her face. 

“I went there, Aelinna. After I swore I wouldn’t, when we sent the spirit back to Sovngarde where it came from,” he muttered, pain ripping him raw. “I did things I shouldn’t have done, all because he angered me.”

He was right, of course. She knew intimately because she had read Kodlak’s journal the night of his funeral and learned everything. She squeezed his shoulder, showing that she understood. It was understandable why he had lost his temper so badly, especially when he hadn’t known it was a ploy to get him to lose control in the first place. 

“Vilkas,” she murmured. “Look at me.” He turned to face her finally, and she saw in the depths of his eyes how haunted he was. He regretted what he had done, just like when he felt he was unworthy to enter Ysgramor’s tomb because he had acted rashly in avenging the old Harbinger. Aelinna lifted her hand and cupped his face, and he closed his eyes to take comfort in her touch.

“I forgive you,” she whispered, and he shuddered at the words. “If I had been harmed that way, then no one would question your rage.” He opened his eyes again to look at her, really look at her. “We don’t have to hide it forever.”

The last cryptic statement puzzled him, but he knew what she was getting at. “When?” he whispered, hope flaring in his eyes.

“Soon,” she replied, smiling at him in the firelight. “After I’m home again.” Their moment was interrupted by Starimir coming to them, clearing his throat awkwardly. Vilkas looked up at him, and the man flinched before speaking.

“Everything’s ready for the ride out tomorrow,” he said, then positively fled from his spot back to where the others had already bedded down for the night. Aelinna looked confused, turning back to him. 

“They’ve been acting weird all night. What’s going on?” she asked, and he looked embarrassed. 

“They witnessed what I did to the bandit chief,” he replied sheepishly. 

“Ah.”

She didn’t say anything more, just sat back and reflected on that for a bit. With that he turned to face her, deciding that now they were basically alone he could ask her another question. The look on her face belied her curiosity at him, and he took a breath before he spoke. 

“What does ‘we protect our own’ mean?” he inquired, and she choked on her wine. Spluttering and gasping for air, she wiped her streaming eyes then managed to breathe without coughing. Once she was sure she hadn’t gotten any liquid into her lungs, it was her turn to look uncomfortable. 

“Remember how I told you that I murdered people?” she began, her words small and full of shame. He nodded, waiting for her to continue. “Well… the part that I left out was that I did so as a member of the Dark Brotherhood.” The look on his face could have been priceless, were it not for the serious implications. 

It was suddenly so quiet that the fire seemed to be screaming. Vilkas seemed to be scrambling for answers, and finally came up with, “You’re a member of the Dark Brotherhood?!”

“Not willingly!” she shot back, looking and sounding upset. “Astrid kidnapped me, and I had the choice to kill people or be killed! I didn’t exactly want to die you know!” He stared at her, feeling like the woman he had come to know was a complete stranger to him. 

She made a downward cutting gesture with her arm. “I didn’t want to be a member, I swear it!” she cried. “When I got the chance to escape after doing contracts I did! I tore that uniform from my body and I hid it where it would never see the light of day again!” Vilkas frowned at her. 

“So, ‘we protect our own’ was the Brotherhood coming to help you? Did you call them?”

“No! You have to believe me!” she wailed.

“I don’t see why I should,” he said harshly, standing up.

“Vilkas!” Aelinna cried. She looked up at him, wounded. “I swear on Kodlak’s grave that I never continued once I had the opportunity to get away.” He turned to her then, and she flinched at the look on his face. 

“Never speak that name to me again,” he said, his words soft and dangerous. With that he turned away. “We’ll take you back to Whiterun, and I’ll return to Jorrvaskr.”

“Vilkas!”

He ignored her, walking away and grabbing his bedroll, going to a spot a little ways from the main camp and bedding down for the night. Aelinna stared after him, tears rolling down her face. At that moment, she felt the tiniest of flutters within her body, and she broke down in sobs. He still didn’t know, and now he would likely reject the child as well as her. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The rest of the trip was quiet. Every time Aelinna tried to speak, Vilkas’ stony face would darken so she didn’t push it. The squadron was unaware of their fight, but they were still reeling over his actions with the chief so they were on their best behavior. Unfortunately since she lacked a horse, and the soldiers didn’t bring any spares, she was stuck riding with someone. 

For now that was Starimir, the second-in-command, at her request. He was careful not to touch her, but occasionally when shifting his hold on the reins his hands would brush against her side. She knew it was accidental so she said nothing, but Vilkas seemed to take it personally and his mood grew more sour by the moment.

Eventually they did make it back to the stables of Whiterun, and they led Aelinna in a protective circle up to Dragonsreach. She normally would have protested, but she was moody and silent. Marching together, they made their way to the foot of the dais with Vilkas in front. Jarl Balgruuf stared down at them, looking as stoic as ever. 

“Did you find her?” he asked, his voice sounding more bored than relieved. Vilkas nodded stiffly, gesturing to the men who fanned out and revealed Aelinna. She was messy with unkempt hair, but it was obvious that she was overall unharmed. “You have my thanks, Companion,” he stated, then gestured to Proventus. 

The steward tossed a bag of money to Vilkas, who caught it deftly in one hand then slipped it into a hidden pocket. “You are relieved of duty.” With that Vilkas bowed politely, then turned and walked out before Aelinna could say anything. Balgruuf interrupted her train of thought. 

“DragonBorn,” he said, and she brought her eyes up to him. “Do you know who kidnapped you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied, her tone mostly flat as she tried to process her pain. Balgruuf gestured for her to go on, waiting expectantly. “Jarl Siddgeir.” There was an audible gasp from the people in the room, and Balgruuf leaned forward in his throne. His suspicions were confirmed, but he needed to be absolutely sure. 

“That’s quite an accusation, Harbinger,” he said, steepling his hands under his chin. “How do you know it was him?”

Aelinna smiled slightly as she stared up at her lord. “Because I spoke to him, and he told me he planned to use me as his pawn.” He nodded in response, as that would definitely count. 

“What are you going to do now?” he queried, intrigued. 

“I’m going to go to Riften,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. 

“Why?” he asked, watching her carefully. 

“I have a lead,” she said simply, shrugging a bit. 

Balgruuf seemed to think that over, then waved his hand in dismissal of her. She bowed, then turned and walked out. As she returned to the sunshine, Aelinna realized that she could either go to Jorrvaskr and try to talk to Vilkas, or just go on ahead to Riften alone. She set off towards the ancient hall, hoping to get through to him. 

Aela was waiting for her when she slipped inside the doors, and she didn’t look happy. Farkas was nowhere to be seen, but the odds were good he was with his brother. The other Companions were either making themselves scarce, or were out back practicing. “What happened?” she asked, catching the DragonBorn off guard. 

“What?” Aelinna replied, confused. 

“I’ve never seen him this angry. What happened?” she repeated, crossing her arms.

“Oh.” Aelinna looked down, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Can I talk to him?” she asked, subtly wiping away a tear and looking back up at the other woman. 

“He refuses to see you,” Aela replied, and Aelinna flinched like she’d been struck. “I’d tell you to stay away, but seeing as you’re our Harbinger it would be best if you just collected your family.” She nodded quickly, but the Huntress saw the hitch in her throat as she smothered a sob. With that she stepped out of the way, and Aelinna moved past with the manners of a whipped dog. 

It was just bad luck that Rayya and Lucia were in the room next to the twins. It was just worse luck that Vilkas became aware of this when the child cried out “Mama!” in greeting since their doors were open. He strode to the door, pausing long enough to see Lucia jump into Aelinna’s arms. When she looked up at him, he slammed the door shut, and she then had to choke down more tears and tell a fib to her daughter. 

Taking Lucia by the hand, she left Jorrvaskr with Rayya on her heels while she explained everything that had happened, save for her being pregnant. She wasn’t ready for anyone to know that just yet. As they headed out of the hall, Vilkas turned back to the room and skulked over to his bed and flopped down on it. 

“They might call me ‘ice brain’ but even I can tell something is bothering you,” Farkas said at length while watching his brother.

“Shut up, Farkas,” came the sullen reply as he rolled over to stare at the wall. 

“You love ‘er?”

Vilkas was quiet for a long time as he thought about the question. “Yeah,” he said finally, closing his eyes against the pain in his chest. 

“You should go talk to her,” Farkas said, loosely crossing his arms as he leaned against the nightstand. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Why?” Farkas asked, staring at his back. 

Vilkas rolled back over and sat up, scowling at his twin brother. “She killed people.”

“So? We have too.”

Vilkas waved a hand in dismissal. “No, we killed people for honor or to defend ourselves. She murdered people.”

“What’s the difference?”

He looked like he wanted to strangle his brother. “The difference is that we weren’t paid to kill them.” Farkas looked confused by this statement, so Vilkas sighed and elaborated. “She’s a member of the Dark Brotherhood.” Farkas took a few moments to process this, then shrugged.

“So?” 

Vilkas rolled his eyes. “One day I’m going to stab you, Farkas,” he said, only half meaning the threat.

“Yeah well your mother was a skeever and your father smelled of snowberries,” Farkas quipped, and Vilkas threw a pillow at him.

“We have the same parents, ice brain.”

“Oh yeah.” Farkas tossed the pillow back at him, sitting on his own bed. “So you gonna go talk to her or what?”

Vilkas sighed again. “I don’t know,” he said, looking down at the floor between his boots. 

“You should.”

“I don’t really care if I ‘should’ or not,” Vilkas replied, his tone sounding morose. Farkas shifted, leaning forwards and peering at his brother. 

“What did she do that was so bad? Was it the killing people for money?” he asked, trying to understand his moody twin. 

“It was,” Vilkas stated, wishing his brother would stop probing him so deeply. 

“Did she stop?”

“So she claims,” Vilkas said, getting annoyed now. 

“Then what’s the big deal?” 

Vilkas didn’t have an answer for that one. Farkas leaned back, victorious. “You should really go talk to her,” he repeated, gloating in his success in getting through to his brother. Instead of replying, Vilkas stood up. 

“She should be revoked as Harbinger.”

“What?” Farkas said dumbly, shock reverberating through him. 

“Contract killing is not honorable, and she has disgraced this hall by doing it.” With that he went to leave the room, striding towards the doors that went back to the main area.

“Vilkas!” Farkas called after him, following hot on his heels. “You can’t mean that!”

“I can and I do,” Vilkas said, trotting up the stairs and turning to look for Aela. 

“You’re insane!”

“Perhaps.” Spotting the werewolf, he beckoned for her to follow him and the three remaining members of the Circle headed to the underforge to talk about this issue more in depth. While the trio bickered back and forth, Aelinna was heading home to Lakeview Manor to rest before heading off to Riften to find out what in Tamriel was going on now. 

Her thoughts strayed often to Vilkas, but there was nothing she could do about that right this second. Lucia was chatting up a storm while Rayya occasionally asked her a question that she answered. Now and then she felt the tiny flutter in her abdomen, and she rubbed the spot over her womb to soothe the child growing within.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen now, but as she rubbed her belly she silently vowed to protect this child at all costs. No matter what, this baby was going to come into this world with all the love she could give it. Lucia would love her sibling, and Rayya would also dote on the child. This baby was going to have a family, with or without a father. She would make sure of it.


	16. Meeting

It was a month before Aelinna felt well enough to travel again. The morning sickness had passed, and as she was dressing she noted a slight thickening of her belly. She would begin showing soon, and she had no idea what she was going to do once she could no longer hide it. For now, she carefully put on her underclothes before putting on her glass armor. 

Leaving the helm to the last, she slung her ebony bow across her back while giving a tearful Lucia lots of kisses goodbye while explaining in detail to Rayya where she was going and why. The woman nodded, understanding, while Aelinna gave Lucia a honey nut treat before sliding her helm onto her head, swinging into Allie’s saddle, and riding off. 

It was going to be a long time to Riften, and she’d waited long enough in her recovery. While the words _meet us where you made your first_ might be cryptic to anyone else who had read the note, she knew exactly what it meant. The first contract kill she’d made was Grelod the Kind in the Riften orphanage, so that was were she was going. 

Hopefully if she kept Allie to a reasonable pace the ride wouldn’t be too hard, but there was only one way to find out. While she was used to riding alone, it seemed much more lonely with Vilkas mad at her. Tears welled in her eyes as she rode through the trees, and she cursed her hormones for making her so weepy. 

She just wished she could make him understand, but his temper ran so hot there was no point until he calmed down. If he calmed down. Leaning forward in her saddle to duck under some low-hanging branches, she pursed her lips while looking in the general direction of Whiterun. She could ride over there and try again, but the ache in her heart kept her from actually turning her horse.

Instead she rode towards Riverwood, intending to go around the great mountain instead of through the pass. It was the longer route, but it was also the safer one. So much emphasis on safety. A rueful smile crossed her face as she rubbed her abdomen absently. Apparently she had to get pregnant to curb her recklessness, and the humor was not lost on her. 

Time passed easily, and the Nine seemed to smile on her as she didn’t encounter more than wolves on the first leg of her trip. When she approached a fork in the road to either head northwest to Whiterun or northeast to Riften, she hesitated for several minutes. Eventually she snapped the reins and turned northeast, deciding it would be better to just get this over with. 

It was difficult avoiding the camps and the Ritual Stone, since those pretty much always had some form of bandit in them, but as she followed the river east she managed to slip past Valtheim Towers by going through Guldun Rock instead. The giant left her alone since she was merely galloping past the mammoths, but she didn’t want to stick around for when it changed its mind.

Going around Hillgrund’s Tomb, it was a relatively straight shot to Ivarstead aside from all the trails going up into the mountains and the drops into the water. Keeping a firm hand on the reins, Aelinna maneuvered Allie nearly expertly through the countryside. Of course her luck couldn’t last forever, and she fought off bears, wolves, and sabre cats. 

Night had fallen by the time she made it into Ivarstead, and the wearied DragonBorn paid for a room to sleep in. She rested for another day, listening to the people and looking at the steps leading to High Hrothgar. There was no need to ascend the seven thousand steps right now, but it almost comforted her to know the Greybeards were there. 

On the third day she left early in the morning, riding towards Sarethi Farm. Once she got there, she wheeled Allie towards the southeast and Heartwood Mill. In the process she had to cross the river, but Allie was a good mare and swam across with no difficulties. Killing the rather annoying mudcrab that tried to snap at her horse’s legs, Aelinna sheathed her blade then continued on.

She was exhausted, but once she made it to Riften she could rest in Honeyside. Aelinna trailed along the edge of the lake to avoid any enemies bigger than a bear, and made it to Snow-Shod Farm. Patting Allie’s neck, Aelinna steeled herself for the final stretch. Turning almost completely north, she rode to the edge of the city. 

Since the stables were on the opposite side of town, she did what she felt was a completely reasonable thing to do, and coaxed her horse into the water. Allie obeyed, but there was a whicker of protest. Holding the horse to the slowest pace, she grimaced at the cold water on her legs as she steered the mare past the dock leading to her house. 

Continuing on, she led the mare to land on the other side, then up the hillock and around the building to put her in the stables. With that she turned to head into the city proper via the gates. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she thought to herself, strolling through the streets in the direction of the orphanage. 

Going over the wooden bridge to the little marketplace, Aelinna paused long enough to buy something to eat then continued on. Crossing the other bridge, Aelinna turned to the right and headed towards the Orphanage. She had no idea what to expect from this, and she didn’t even know who was going to be here. Who was this person she was going to meet?

Certainly wouldn’t be Babette or Nazir, and definitely not Astrid. Her steps slowed as she tried to think of who it could be and failing entirely. Shaking her head to try and clear it, she opened the door and went inside. There was no knowing what was inside, children or not. It would be a lie to say that she wasn’t afraid of what was going to happen. 

Qahnaarin waited within the orphanage, knowing by the reports that the DragonBorn would be in town by now. Sitting at one of the benches in the waiting room, he settled in to wait for the door to open.

Aelinna opened and closed the door to the Orphanage quietly, hoping that she wasn’t going to get mobbed by the kids again. They were all eligible for adoption, and they tugged at her heartstrings every time she came here as she hadn’t decided on a kid yet. Thankfully they hadn’t noticed her slip in yet, so she had a few moments to spare. As her eyes adjusted to the difference in light, she looked around the room. 

Already beginning to regret the Archmage Robes he wore, Qahnaarin was struck by how much more imposing the woman before him was clad in Glass armor than she had been at Moss Mother Cavern. It certainly made sense that a simple dress would be far less intimidating, but it was the knowledge that she was the only being alive who could actually kill him that brought him up short. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat, softly so as not to gain the attention of the horde of children in the other room.

The DragonBorn looked over as she heard the sound of a throat clearing. Spying a man sitting on a bench, she tilted her head slightly as she took in the sight of the very strange robes. There was some sort of strange fringed thing on his chest, and maybe a hood on his head. The boots didn’t help the absurd image before her, and there was the sudden temptation to laugh. This was whom she was supposed to meet? For the love of Akatosh she hoped not. 

She prayed with every fiber of her being that this was just some elf looking to also adopt, and she puffed out a sigh before sitting on the other bench in the room. It felt good to get off her feet, and a quick rub on her belly soothed the fluttering within. 

“Looking to adopt, or are you volunteering too?” Qahnaarin was just testing the waters, but he wasn’t sure of his acting. Luckily he was in the habit of actually volunteering here anyway, since Grelod died and Constance took over. He certainly wasn’t looking to adopt any children of his own, what with the entire riekling tribe to take care of, but they still deserved someone to come by and treat them with kindness. 

“Most of the children are listening to Constance read to them right now, but once she’s done and they head to bed, I expect she’ll need some help cleaning up the dining room.”

Aelinna swiveled her head to look over at the elf, unaware that by doing so she had just made herself look even more imposing since she hadn’t taken off her helm yet. “I’m not quite ready to adopt yet, but on occasion I stop by to talk to the children and see which of them might be a good fit for my home,” she replied noncommittally, her tone somewhat guarded. 

“With weapons like those,” Qahnaarin began, nodding towards her bow and sword, “I can only imagine you must be out of the home quite a bit. Most Nord children are fairly independent, but without an adult at home, it may be best to have them stay here.” Qahnaarin felt somewhat sad at that, given his hope that they would all find homes, but that was just the way of Skyrim. 

“Oh, excuse me, I’m terribly sorry. I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself.” Reaching over to the other bench, he held his hand out for a handshake, “I’m the Archmage of the College of Winterhold. And you are...?”

“Thane of Riften,” Aelinna replied, taking his hand and grasping it in greeting. “I have a steward at home who watches my daughter when I’m out, and if I’m gone for a terribly long time they stay with my brothers and sisters.” With that she smiled slightly, since it was both a joke and completely true. Companions saw each other as family, even when they bickered over the dumbest things.

“Ah yes,” he said, putting his hand back in his lap and carefully preparing a Ward spell out of sight, “the Companions truly do act as a family, don’t they? I’m given to understand they also go out of their way to protect their Harbinger.” Knowing that could touch a nerve, Qahnaarin also brought to mind his Cyclone Shout, in case he needed to incapacitate the powerful woman sitting next to him.

Aelinna burst out laughing, unable to help herself. “If that was true, I’d be stuck with a contingent everywhere I went, and I would never get any time to myself,” she replied, chortling. “No, the Harbinger is more of an advisory role since they don’t need me.” She sobered then, remembering. “The Companions haven’t needed a real Harbinger since Kodlak.”

Turning ever so slightly in his seat, careful not to seem hostile, Qahnaarin decided to be a little more blunt. “I see, so Vilkas is a special case then?”

Aelinna bristled, but managed to keep a handle on her temper as well as her tongue. Her eyes narrowed at the elf, and anger seemed to roll off of her in waves. “Vilkas was assigned to me by Jarl Balgruuf the Greater when I had a hit out on me, to draw out the would-be assassin,” she said coldly, and a hand gripped the scabbard of her weapon. 

“As one of the leaders of the Companions, it was in his best interest to ensure the Thane of Whiterun and the Harbinger was kept safe for as long as possible.” If she could growl still, she would have.

Putting up his one un-ensorcelled hand in supplication, Qahnaarin found himself assaulted by the scent of her anger, wafting from her like a fog. Yet, there was something else in that scent. “Oh no...” He could barely keep the dread out of his voice as he spoke again, all in a rush, “if I had known… I’m so sorry, I would have stayed in the cavern to fight if I had known you were expecting!”

Aelinna had two reactions simultaneously. The first was shock, the second was suspicion. “What do you mean, you would have stayed….?” her question trailed off as her mind processed the next bit of information. Shock crossed her face. “How did..?” words seemed to be failing her at the moment, since nobody knew that she was nearly four months along.

“Your scent, it... I’m sorry, let me start over.” Qahnaarin took a deep breath, readying the Ward and Shout once again. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in Moss Mother Cavern to help, but I had thought Vilkas would be enough to handle the remaining bandits.”

Aelinna was unable to narrow her eyes any further without looking really stupid. “He was,” she said, now completely suspicious. “He had a squadron of five men with him, who were more than capable of doing their jobs.” Her hand tightened on the handle of her sword as she regarded the dunmer again. 

“Were you the one who slipped that note into my dress?” she asked, deciding to ignore the weird statement about scent for now. For all she knew, he was another werewolf being creepy. 

“Y-y...yes…” Unable to help himself, Qahnaarin almost started to cringe away from her, completely at a loss as to how to deal with a pregnant woman, let alone the Dovahkiin. “Krosis, but it took me longer than expected to reach Honeystrand Cave first, then I was barely able to reach Moss Mother Cavern before the Companion and his group, so I had to think fast.”

Aelinna almost looked like an owl when she tilted her head at the dovahzul word. In fact she moved so fast she cricked the bones in her neck, which of course prompted a sub-vocalized ‘ow’ to slip past her lips. “By leaving a super cryptic note with a hand print, the calling card of the Dark Brotherhood,” she stated, her words steeped in sarcasm. “How wonderfully executed.”

Shrugging, Qahnaarin at least had the decency to sound embarrassed as he tried to explain. “I was out on a recruitment job at the time, so it was the only paper I had,” he finally mustered himself enough to feel a twinge of irritation. “Besides, would you have rather I left something completely blatant so Vilkas would know where to ask around if you had died in there?”

Aelinna didn’t hesitate in her response. “Vilkas already knows,” she growled. “Everyone knows the black hand print belongs to the Dark Brotherhood, and thanks to you I got to explain that I was--am-- a member.” She didn’t quite start pulling on her blade, but the temptation to do so was great. 

“Why do you know so much, assassin?” she challenged. “Planning on killing the DragonBorn? Or just looking to claim victory over my body?” Her words were like ice, and the steel behind them came from the rage and pain in her heart.

Sighing heavily, Qahnaarin realized just how far afield the conversation had gone. “Firstly, he probably knew the moment he spotted me at the entrance, and I couldn’t very well tell him at the time that I meant he needn’t worry, because of my enchanted mask. Secondly, I was more concerned with you killing me when you walked in than the other way around, but that would require further explanation, and this is hardly the place for that. I set this as the meeting place because of its relative safety, for both of us. Thirdly, I’m quite sure that Constance has finished reading by now, so if we are going to continue our talk, it will simply have to wait until the dining hall has been cleaned.” With that, he stood slowly and strode to the other room, painfully aware that he had just turned his back on someone who may very well be an enemy.

Oh it was tempting to Shout his ass into the wall. She had opened her mouth to do so before remembering the children, and closed it with a snort. When he turned his back on her it was the perfect chance to just kick his elvish butt all the way to the Planes of Oblivion, but naturally common sense took over. She snorted again. Bastard. 

Whatever it was he wanted to talk about, she wasn’t really interested and now she was wondering why she’d bothered coming here at all. Aelinna was tired and cranky, and hungry again to boot. Standing up off the bench, she followed the blasted elf to see what he was doing.

Starting with the empty plates and bowls, Qahnaarin began clearing the table of the mess left by the children, placing them all in a bucket to be washed later. Noticing that he had indeed been followed, he nodded to a broom before picking up the emptied pots and pans, heading to the pantry to begin washing.

Aelinna grabbed the broom in a sullen silence, sweeping up crumbs and bits of scraps from the table. Children were always so messy, but when it was Lucia she didn’t mind. Her heart softened as she thought of the girl, who really did need a sibling to keep her company. It would be months yet before her child came into the world, and the kids here needed a home. 

The sweeping motions went from angry to thoughtful as she considered them. She wasn’t a fan of the girl here, but one of the boys had caught her eye as he seemed sweet. “Do you know about the kids?” she asked softly, her temper easing. 

Glad for the change of subject, Qahnaarin found himself answering quite enthusiastically, “why yes I do. Francois is unfortunately quite unlikely to ever be picked up by his parents, but I just can’t bring myself to dash his hopes. I found out they were killed on their way to Cyrodiil shortly after dropping him off here, running from creditors. Hroar is friendly enough, but he really does seem to enjoy it here. Samuel... Now, Samuel is probably the most in need of a good home. His mother used to work here, but died in childbirth. This place is the only one he’s ever known, and suffering under the hands of Grelod has taken something from him. He’s never had a chance to truly be a child.” 

Saddened by his own report, and painfully reminded of his own inability to adopt, Qahnaarin drifted back into silence as he finished washing the dishes.

Aelinna was thoughtful as she absorbed all of this, then put down the broom and went in search of Constance. It took several minutes, but she convinced the woman to let her adopt Samuel and have him stay with her Housecarl here in Riften until she could arrange for a carriage to take him to her home in Falkreath hold. With that she returned, looking determined. “So you gonna keep cleaning those dishes, or are you gonna just gonna keep pussyfooting around the reason why you summoned me across Skyrim?” she asked without further preamble.

“I think perhaps we should go somewhere to speak a little more privately.” Qahnaarin set down the final dish, then set a bag of septims on the table before heading to the door, holding it open for the DragonBorn.

Aelinna made sure the broom was propped against the wall so it wouldn’t get tripped over, then swept out of the orphanage with the air of someone born of nobility. Stepping past the door and going outside, she turned to look back at the wildly un-intimidating Brotherhood assassin. “We can go to Honeyside, I’m sure Iona can wait on my back porch to ensure total privacy,” she said, wrapping herself in the layers of emotional protection as Thane and Harbinger as well as DragonBorn.

Wryly, Qahnaarin found himself quipping back with sarcasm of his own. “Well, if you insist, though I had hoped we could simply head over to Heljarchen Hall for an equally partisan reception. After all, if we’re going to abandon neutral territory, why not go straight to Dawnstar, where I’m Thane instead.” If he had rolled his eyes any harder, he would’ve given himself a headache. 

“Never mind that, you probably need your rest and a meal. Assuming you’re willing to go on a short trip in the morning, we can find a place to talk then. Just know this,” Qahnaarin said, finally letting his more murderous intentions color his voice, while his mutated vampirism colored his eyes with a vibrant red glow, “if you try to run, I’ll find you.” Turning heel, he activated his Nightingale invisibility, disappearing into the lengthening shadows to watch her reaction.

Aelinna guffawed as the man threatened her, deciding that she was done for the day. “Run, don’t run, everyone tries to kill me regardless,” she said out loud, then started to wander off in the direction of her house. She was beyond caring at this point, and when the blade touched her throat, she couldn’t help the grin from crossing her face. 

“Impressive, but don’t think that I can’t kill you anyways,” she said to the air. She may not be able to see him, but she had noted that many people going invisible tended to leave weird little trails in the air that she could track. Sighing, she drew her bow and held it casually at her side. “You wanna dance, little fringed man? Or do you actually want to talk like civilized folk?”

As nervous as he had been meeting her at first, Qahnaarin found himself struck with how ridiculous this whole thing was. Here before him was the DragonBorn of legend, and as far as he could tell, the only thing she truly held over him was the ability to consume dragon souls. His might be included within that ability, but she didn’t even seem able to sense his draconic presence. Shaking his head, he wandered off to the Ratway entrance before he did something stupid.

Aelinna waited, and when she sensed that wherever the idiot had gone to was away from here, she slung her bow back across her back and resumed the trek to her house. Once inside, she took off her helm and flopped onto her bed, asleep before she hit the pillow. She didn’t even take off her armor in her exhaustion, but it didn’t matter anyways. Iona wisely left her alone for the night, bustling around quietly preparing a meal then sleeping near her Thane to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qahnaarin is a character from another fanfic, and the creator and i collaborated on his visits to my Dragonborn.


	17. Explanation

After changing into his new dragonscale armor, Qahnaarin returned to Honeyside to keep watch and wait. After spending most of the morning coming up with every possible scenario in the event of a fight, he was glad to finally hear evidence of someone making breakfast within Honeyside. After waiting what he felt was an appropriate length of time for someone to eat, he knocked.

Iona opened the door, taking in the elf standing in dragonscale armor and rolling her eyes in a very Nord manner. She said nothing, just turned around with the door open as an invitation to enter while heading into the bedroom to wake up Aelinna. Gently placing a hand on her shoulder, Iona lightly shook her. “My Thane, we have a visitor,” she murmured to the DragonBorn, and Aelinna cracked open an eyelid. 

“Huh?” she grunted, not entirely awake. 

“We have a visitor,” Iona repeated, before straightening and going back into the main area.

“Whassat?” Aelinna mumbled, finally feeling her brain kick into gear. Getting out of bed, she stretched her sore and painful muscles from sleeping with her armor on. She was too tired to care for much, and pulled the armor off of her body since it was bothering her. From there she went over to her wardrobe, clad only in her underthings, looking for something to wear. 

Deciding on random fine clothing, she pulled on a mismatched shirt and breeches before padding barefoot into the living room with an impressive bedhead, yawning hugely.

Arching an eyebrow at the ridiculousness of it all, Qahnaarin shook his head slowly at the woman in front of him. This was the Thane who was so adamant that none could kill her? He called upon his dremoran butler, and as it appeared, Iona cried out in alarm and drew her weapons, ready to defend her Thane to the death. “Hold, housecarl! He’s just my butler!”

Iona lowered her sword and shield, not quite ready to put them away just yet, but the look on her face clearly said, ‘Sir, that’s a fucking demon over there.’

“What a lovely reception, sir. I do so love being threatened. So, do you have more cups and plates for me to carry?” The dremoran was polite enough, but his sarcasm practically dripped out of his mouth like drool from a hungry dog.

Sighing, Qahnaarin couldn’t help but put his face in his palm at the dremoran’s words. “Vile, I’ve told you again and again, at least pretend you care about not appearing hostile. When I summon you, make sure everyone can see your hands or something. Or wear a hat.”

“Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of being hostile. Now, what did you wish of me?” Bowing low in an obvious mockery of the entire thing, the dremoran waited patiently for his orders.

Sighing heavily again, Qahnaarin spoke up, “just give me the set of armor I gave you to hold onto last night.”

“Of course master, I live to serve,” the dremoran said, in a tone that clashed so heavily with his words it almost hurt to hear. Pulling the set of dragonscale out of a conjured hole, Vile handed Qahnaarin the armor and promptly returned to Oblivion.

“Sorry about that, I’ve tried everything, but he’s always like that.” Qahnaarin strode over to the DragonBorn and put the armor in front of her. “Here, you might need this, and it’s better than that Glass.”

Aelinna yawned again, having dozed off during their little quibble and snapping awake when the butler left their plane of existence. “Might need what?” she asked, looking down and spotting the armor on the table. Her brain refused to tell her what it was, and then it occurred to her that it was armor. Looking up at the dunmer with a decidedly confused expression that combined with her bed-head looked completely absurd, she realized he was wearing an identical set.

“Why would I need… is that dragon bone?” she asked, squinting and looking closer at him while leaning forwards.

“Scale, actually, and that one,” Qahnaarin said as he pointed at the set on the table, “is specifically tailored to you. More to the point, I spent all night making sure it will be able to…” Stopping to glance over at the housecarl, unsure if the Thane had said anything, he chose his next words carefully. “Well, let’s just say it will be able to stretch to fit perfectly.” 

Aelinna stared dumbly before it occurred to her what he was talking about. She really needed something to kick her brain into higher function, but coffee wasn’t a thing in Skyrim. Yet. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched her back like a khajiit before yawning again and looking a bit more alert. 

“Why are you giving me this? Weren’t you gonna slash my throat or something for daring to not take your threat seriously?” she asked, her words slightly muffled as another yawn escaped her. Iona handed her a mug of hot mead before staring at the elf like he was excrement on her boot. 

Scoffing, Qahnaarin couldn’t help but think that this woman must have a death wish. For a pregnant woman, she seemed to have almost no regard for her safety, nor the potential danger of having a stranger in her home. He was almost tempted to start stealing stuff just to prove a point later, but he doubted it would make a difference.

“I’m giving you this because you obviously haven’t given your condition any real thought. I’m giving you this in case Paarthurnax doesn’t like our intrusion, and I’m giving it to you as a show of good faith. It would have been as way of apology as well, but I see now it would’ve been lost on you.” Drawling out the words in a near flat monotone, Qahnaarin found himself almost laughably tired of the woman’s antics.

“I’ll give you an hour to get dressed and fed. If you aren’t at the stables by the end of that hour, I’ll assume you want to leave the organization the old fashioned way.” Qahnaarin was nearly fuming with frustration, but he just barely contained himself from threatening Lucia.

“Yol Toor Shul.” The words were spoken almost casually, save for the guttural hiss that betrayed her temper. Flames shot from her like the breath of a dragon, intended for his direction regardless if it hit anything else in her house. She’d either pay for replacements or just put the fires out herself. 

Her eyes snapped with anger, and she stood slowly out of her chair, drawing herself to her full height. It didn’t matter that her hair was messy and her clothing mismatched, she was fully the DragonBorn in this moment. 

Nearly instinctively, Qahnaarin found himself responding to the Shout with one of his own. “Mul Qah Diiv.” Feeling the power of the dragon armor envelop him, he stood stock still as he waited for the flames to fade, and the madwoman in front of him to come to her senses.

Aelinna stared at the mystical armor without batting an eyelash. She’d faced down actual dragons, so some guy with a Shout that made him pretty wasn’t anything too far out of the ordinary. “I am not some pithy child you can order about, elf,” she hissed, waiting for the dragon shout to recharge should she need it again. Iona was having a rage induced stroke in the corner. 

“Your ‘gift’ as some sort of apology, that you decided to insult me with was unwise of you,” she continued, trying to force the words out of her teeth without just screeching at him like a hagraven. “Do keep in mind that while I look like your average Nord woman who seems to be about as intimidating as a mudcrab in heat, I am the Dovahkiin.” She glared at him. “And just because you and Ulfric seem to share the ability to Shout, does not mean I’m afraid of you.”

With that she clenched her fists, visibly trying to calm herself for the sake of the baby.

Knowing it was a risk, but trusting that the armor would prevent her from eating his soul during the few seconds he would be dead, Qahnaarin finally decided to just lay his cards on the table. Slowly drawing the dragon bone dagger at his hip, keeping the tip carefully pointed at himself lest the housecarl take it as a threat, he plunged it into his heart. Letting his body fall behind him, keeping his spirit standing in place with the spectral armor wrapping around it, he spoke. **“You’re not the only DragonBorn.”**

Aelinna was finally surprised. Caught completely off guard, her jaw unhinged for a moment. But only a moment. “What in the Nine?” she managed to say, before hissing out “Feim Zii Gron,” to try and process what she was looking at. Of course, going ethereal meant nothing when you’re standing in front of a spirit. A pissed off spirit, to boot. But maybe she couldn’t be harmed by him in this form, for now. Either way, he’d just showed how much of a threat he was, and she thankfully had a few tricks up her sleeve still. 

Grabbing her by the spectral throat before she could run, Qahnaarin hissed into her ear, **“That won’t help if I decide to kill you.”** An instant later, and he was sucked back into his body, reanimating it and feeling weakened before he could surreptitiously pull out the grand soul gem in his pocket to absorb the soul within. “Rii Vaaz Zol.” As the soul was sucked into him, he felt his strength return, and looked up at the stunned DragonBorn in front of him. 

“I’m not here to fight, or you’d already be dead. I’m here for help.” Exhausted once again by his resurrection, he gingerly pulled the knife out of his heart so he could heal properly.

“Fiik Lo Sah,” she croaked, and a clone appeared next to her. She knew she was starting to push it, barely having waited long enough to Shout without hurting herself. This was her last move, for the time being. The ‘become ethereal’ shout was beginning to wear off, so she turned and ran for the back door. 

Whatever her clone was doing, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Iona tried to help, but with two Thanes suddenly standing there instead of one, her brain stem basically snapped and she stood there completely slack-jawed. Arms akimbo, she dropped her sword and shield onto the floor. The Housecarl was basically out of commission at this point, and she wondered vaguely if Laila Law-Giver would be offended if she asked to quit. 

Temporarily confused, Qahnaarin sniffed the air before following the DragonBorn out of the back door, and before she could leave the porch, started Shouting in quick succession to stop her. “Tiid Klo Ul. Iiz Slen Nus. Gaan Lah. Gaan Lah. Gaan Lah. Gaan Lah.” As he felt time returning to normal, he started his litany over again while he slowly walked up to her. By the time he had started his third litany, he was standing in front of her, encased in ice in front of him, unable to escape.

Aelinna had just made it to the turn that would lead her down the stairs and to the water when the first Thu’um hit her in the back. Ice leapt into being and encased her from the chest down, stopping her in her tracks. Panic exploded from her as she felt wave after wave of Draconic slam into her, until she felt drained. 

She sagged in her icy prison, unable to do anything else. What hair wasn’t caught in the ice fell in front of her face as her head dropped forwards, and she looked like a living doll that had some of its strings cut. There was no Shout she could say to defend herself, even if she could try. When the footsteps stopped in front of her, she weakly spat a wad of saliva at the feet she could sort of see. “Kill me and get it over with,” she said, her words full of resignation.

Clearing his throat to speak normally again, Qahnaarin sensed that he had probably gone too far. “If I did that, I’d still have to deal with Miraak. I told you, I need your help.” Using Arniel’s Convection to gently heat her, thawing the ice, he couldn’t help but sigh for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “I’ve been told you were difficult to negotiate with, but I never imagined it was because you had no grasp of subtlety.”

Aelinna fell out of the ice as it thawed from her body, and she collapsed at his feet. “I’m difficult to negotiate with because people don’t just show up at my house and casually kill themselves,” she replied dully, all the fight gone out of her for the moment. 

“Fair point, but considering the way you Shouted at me first, I thought it might be the simplest way to make my point.” Shaking his head as he pulled her arm over his shoulders and helped her up, he continued, “I’m actually not in the habit of using my dagger on myself, but considering your reaction, at least I can say that I have confirmed that it is not the best way to introduce myself.”

Aelinna snorted, laughing a little. “You started it,” she complained, humor tinting her words. “You showed up with a present from a demon and then insulted me like that’s the societal norm around here. It ain’t.” She let her body sag against him, still feeling the effects of Shouting, trying to run away, and then all but becoming a meat popsicle on her back porch. All before lunch too. 

Settling her down in a chair, Qahnaarin stepped back to cast Grand Healing, restoring her stamina before speaking again. “Hmm. It had been so long since I had been around normal people I guess I forgot most people don’t have dremoran friends.”

“You need to get out more,” Aelinna quipped from her chair, grinning up at him. 

“You’re probably right, but lately every time I leave the house some DragonBorn or another is busy getting kidnapped by corrupt Jarls,” Qahnaarin quipped back, “so I’ve been having trouble finding the time.”

Aelinna laughed, throwing her head back and feeling the sound reverberate off the walls of her house like the pealing of bells. “Siddgeir wasn’t the one who kidnapped me, his idiot goons did. They only got the drop on me because I was busy throwing up,” she replied without missing a beat. 

“Fair enough, but they were under his orders. Speaking of, I can kill him if it’ll help you feel better about the whole thing.” Tilting his head at her, he almost forgot she probably didn’t know about Astrid. “The bitch who recruited you is dead by the way, I didn’t approve of her recruitment methods. Trying to get me killed didn’t help her case any, either.”

“Nah, Balgruuf will likely want to bring him before the moot so the high somebody can kill ‘im,” she responded, shrugging. “‘Course, that’s probably why I got nabbed in the first place. Any Jarl with enough votes can be High King or High Queen, and his ego is the size of Paarthurnax’s cloaca so he’d want me dead to get Balgruuf to vote for him since that guy is as neutral as it gets in Skyrim.” Upon hearing of Astrid’s death, she shrugged again, nonplussed. “Good. Vilkas was gonna try to kill her anyways,” she said, before looking away suddenly. “After me, of course.”

“That sounds like maybe I screwed some things up. Would it help if I let him kill me?” Qahnaarin was only half joking, but if it would keep her happy he’d take the hit. “I could probably explain how you never actually took a contract, too. After all, Grelod was before you were actually recruited, so it doesn’t count.”

Aelinna looked back at him, swiping away another traitor tear from her hormones wreaking havoc on her. “Honestly? I don’t know. He’s a good man, honorable, but he has no tolerance for crime whatsoever and he’s probably ripping Jorrvaskr apart,” she replied, smiling sadly at the other Dovahkiin. “It’s that temper of his. He’s very hot-headed, but way useful in a battle.”

“Hmm…” Thinking deeply, Qahnaarin debated with himself whether or not to give her a passage ring. Being able to zip around through the portals to get anywhere in Skyrim would probably help her current situation, seeing as how she could be at Jorrvaskr before lunch, but that would also require bringing her down into the Guild headquarters, which might make things worse.

“How about you?” He queried. “How do you feel about crime?”

Aelinna shrugged. “I knew about the Guild the first day I came here, since a guard attempted to extort money from me so I could enter,” she began. “Personally I don’t really care one way or the other, but I bet some of them have wanted to recruit me since I’m decent at sneaking when I’m not doing something stupid.”

Before he could catch himself, Qahnaarin found himself answering entirely honestly, “nah, I figured having one of us in the thieves guild was enough.” Trying not to show his shock at nearly admitting that he ran the place, he could only hope she didn’t catch it, like the other dozen hints he had dropped last night about knowing who she was.

“Us?” she repeated, confused. “What do you mean, ‘us?’” she asked, leaning back in the chair and folding her legs to sit cross-legged on the wood. 

“Well I guess that cat is out of the bag.” Breathing deeply, Qahnaarin figured that her reaction couldn’t be any worse than seeing him stab himself in the heart. “I’m not just the Archmage, I’m also the Guild master of the Thieves’ Guild. In fact, I don’t think either of us have properly introduced ourselves.” Thinking for a moment, Qahnaarin decided to give her his adopted moniker to avoid confusion. 

Sticking out a hand for her to shake, he spoke with the confident tones of someone who knew that it just didn’t matter any more. “The name is Qahnaarin Telvanni, and I’m actually not a Dovahkiin, not technically. I’m actually a Lirhaaldov, which is a close cousin. I’m also Archmage, the Guild master, and the Listener of the Night Mother. Thane of Dawnstar, Thane of Solitude, and the Lord of Castle Volkihar, and I need your help to save Solstheim, my first home.”

Aelinna grabbed his hand and shook it, only now feeling the cold stony nature of his flesh. “Aelinna Storm-Bringer, DragonBorn, Thane of Whiterun, Windhelm, Riften, Falkreath, Morthal, and Harbinger of the Companions,” she said, smiling. “Most just call me Thane, DragonBorn, or ‘hey you with the face’.”

“Well that’s not very personal. How about I call you Aelinna, and you can call me Qahnaarin?” He said, not sure if that would work.

“Only if you buy me dinner first,” she joked. 

“Venison, or rabbit?” He joked back.

Aelinna laughed again, almost falling out of her chair. “You know, you remind me of Vilkas. Well, minus the killing yourself and the Shouting and making me your bitch,” she said, trying and failing not to giggle. 

“Oh hardly, I had an unfair advantage. You were freaked out, and besides, I’m Lirhaaldov. All Dovahkiin are destined to die at our hands. Lucky for you, I don’t want to become a full-fledged Dovah.” Qahnaarin found himself smirking just a little, knowing she’d probably ask what a Lirhaaldov was, and he’d finally be able to tell someone aside from his wife what he was.

“You’re a what now?” she asked, cocking her head to one side like Meeko the dog. He’d said that word before, but she didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. 

“A Lirhaaldov. You see, a Dovahkiin is a dragon soul in a mortal body, but a mortal can’t fit the entire thing. Instead, Dovahkiin are only born when a dragon soul is fractured, and the other half of a Dovahkiin is the Lirhaaldov. One gets the power of the Thu’um, the other gets the immortality.”

Pausing to gather his thoughts, Qahnaarin went on, “I had to study for months to learn every Word of Power I can use, and even then my Thu’um will always be weaker. In fact, that’s part of my problem. See, you can absorb dragon souls, and that includes the souls of other DragonBorn, but I can’t absorb the Dovah. The only souls I can absorb are mortals, and DragonBorn. Consuming souls keeps me strong, but if I consumed the soul of a DragonBorn, I would be reborn as a full-blown Dragon.” Not sure what else to say, he waited to see if Aelinna understood.

Aelinna took a little bit to absorb all of that, holding onto her toes as she sat there watching him. “So…” she began, confused. “You can kill me, but I can absorb your soul?” she asked, trying to wrap her head around all this new information. 

“Pretty much, yeah. As long as I protect my soul from getting absorbed by you whenever my body dies, I’m unkillable, but if you absorbed it, you’d treat it just like another dragon soul. On the other hand, it’s kind of your destiny to eventually become consumed by a Lirhaaldov on their way to becoming a Dovah again.” Qahnaarin hesitated, wondering if she would understand just how risky of a maneuver it had been to reveal his soul to her like he had.

Aelinna pondered this, then snorted while looking grumpy. “Figures,” she said sourly. “It wasn’t enough for the Nine to give me some stupid-ass powers I didn’t even want, then they throw in some elf who’s destiny it is to eat me and become a dragon. That’s just fantastic.” With that she snorted again, shaking her head to clear her thoughts and glower at Qahnaarin. 

Noting her sour expression, Qahnaarin immediately tried to clarify himself. “To be absolutely clear, I do not want to become a Dovah. Also, there’s only ever one Dovahkiin to one Lirhaaldov, so if it would help, I can make sure that your paired Lirhaaldov dies before you do, as long as you can help me kill my Dovahkiin.”

Aelinna wondered if she’d stroked off there for a second, as she wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly. “Wait… what?” she managed to say, looking and sounding as stupid as she currently felt. “Your… what?” “What?”

“Alright, let me start over.” Taking a deep breath, Qahnaarin tried to organize his thoughts to only the most relevant information before talking again. “I’m the first Lirhaaldov. A guy named Miraak is the first Dovahkiin. Without a Dovahkiin to kill me, I’ve been aging and becoming reborn for era after era. Miraak, on the other hand, has been in Apocrypha gathering knowledge.” 

“See, he found an Elder Scroll that told him I was destined to kill him, so he fled instead of helping defeat Alduin. That meant… Hold on, I’m going too far. Look, all you really need to know right now is that those cultists you keep seeing around have a boss, and he’s slowly killing Solstheim.”

Aelinna cocked her head again. “What cultists?” she said, before thinking about the dudes in the robes with the funky masks. It had been a while now since she’d seen any running about Skyrim, so she’d actually forgotten about their existence. Waving a hand dismissively in front of her nose, she shook her head. “Never mind.”

With that she heaved a sigh, and the flutters of protest in her belly earned a hand rubbing it over and over in order to placate the little royal within. Such a demanding little thing. “So you want my help to kill this Miraak guy so you can be a dragon and then… what? Eat me?” she asked, the last only being partially a joke. He wasn’t making a whole lot of sense but she was starting to get the gist of it. 

Letting his head fall to thunk into the table between them, Qahnaarin felt the weight of his own stupidity slowly crushing him. “Okay, I don’t want to be a dragon. It’s bad enough my skin is turning more and more into dragon hide every time I die, but I like being able to fit in a bed with my wife. I want to help you kill him so I can keep on as I am. That’s why I kept sending you those messages about where to find Word Walls.”

Aelinna was pretty sure she’d actually had a stroke now. That was the only way any of this made sense. She must have had a stroke and hallucinated this whole thing while dying in a bed or something. Clearly the Nine were getting ready to accept her soul, so she might as well lie back and give it. Her mind just couldn’t cope and wept in a corner of her skull, crying 'why me!' over and over again. 

She most likely had a look on her face that reflected this current state of mind, but it was hard to really describe. “You… want to help me… kill this guy so you can pork your wife?” she asked finally, not really getting it.

Spluttering, but not really denying it, Qahnaarin found himself changing the subject. “Look, he’s a bad guy and he’s trying to come back from Apocrypha to take over all of Skyrim. I can’t kill him, but you can. Can you help or not? I’ll even pay you, like any standard bounty. Fifty thousand septims.”

Aelinna choked. That was a lot of money, especially for a bounty. She gave it some serious thought, reaching out and twirling the bottle sitting on the table. After some time, she finally spoke again. “A pregnant DragonBorn isn’t much help to you,” she said, looking sad. “But I can try.”

“Okay… That might be a good point. Technically your Shouts would be stronger now than ever, but the baby should come first. Look… You’ve agreed to help me, and for now that’s enough. After you’ve had the child and recovered, we can get back together and make a plan to take down Miraak. Until then…” Hoping he wouldn’t regret it, Qahnaarin brought out an amulet with the symbol of the Nightingales on it.

“I can show you a way to get around Skyrim a lot faster than just a horse, and teach you a spell to summon a spectral horse any time you need it.” Now quite certain that he had lost his mind, Qahnaarin continued, “I can also share my name with you so that you can Shout it to summon me if anything happens. As long as you can refrain from eating me, it should work just like learning from the Greybeards.” 

Offering his hand for the third time in the last twelve hours, Qahnaarin asked, “Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed, reaching across and shaking his hand to cement the pact.

“Outstanding. Come with me, we’ve got a lot of work to do.” With that, Qahnaarin stood, ready to show her the portals.


	18. Reconciliation

Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela spent hours arguing in the underforge. First they had to be told what all had happened since Vilkas had been assigned to watch over the Harbinger in the first place, and with some careful omissions they were brought up to speed. Farkas understood Vilkas’ stance on murdering the bandit chief the way he did, Aela wasn’t so sure.

Once she could wrap her head around it, from there they argued in circles until the sun went down and the moon rose. Vilkas was adamant that Aelinna be revoked as the Harbinger, and Aela argued back that Kodlak’s last declaration was that she was to take the mantle for it and to go against that would not only be defying their leader, but also there was no one else who was capable of taking her place.

Several days passed with the three of them shouting at each other in the underforge, until eventually a consensus was reached. Aelinna would stay the Harbinger, Farkas and Aela were set on that and would not yield to Vilkas. Since he was outnumbered, he begrudgingly accepted this but was irritable over his brother not siding with him for once. 

From there he resigned himself to teaching the greenhorns. Ria came and asked for help on occasion, and he did so with a considerable lack of enthusiasm. He was gruff, but polite to those who needed his help, but he didn’t socialize like he had before. Often eating alone, when Vilkas wasn’t teaching he was holed up in his official quarters. 

Aela and Farkas grew concerned, but he would speak to neither of them. Njada was rebuffed so strongly that she fled in angry tears, and it took both Athis and Torvar to calm her down. For the most part the Companions didn’t really question Vilkas’ unusually grumpy mood, but it was clear something was bothering him. 

As the days turned into weeks, and then a month, Vilkas became more and more withdrawn in the halls of Jorrvaskr. He refused to talk to anyone but his brother, but Farkas reported even that was becoming rare since he wasn’t opening up. Eventually Aela cornered him in his room, while Aelinna was riding to Riften to speak to the assassin. 

“Enough of this, Vilkas,” she said, blocking the doorway as he attempted to slip past her. “It’s been a little over a month now and you’re not yourself.” He said nothing, ducking his head and clenching his fists to try and keep his temper under control. “Clearly something is bothering you, why don’t you just tell me?”

He sighed, looking up at her with an expression that was a mixture of frustration and sadness. “I pushed too far, Aela,” he said, his tone like that of the newly dead. “She won’t come back here.”

Aela took several moments to absorb this as she wondered who he was talking about, then realized he meant the Harbinger. “Have you tried talking to her?” she asked, and he responded with a bitter laugh as he turned away and braced an arm against the wall, leaning into it and hanging his head. 

“Everyone says to talk to her, but she won’t come here to talk to me,” he said bitterly, but Aela could smell the sadness coming off of him. Crossing then uncrossing her arms, she sighed then turned to open the door and leave. 

“She’ll come back, Vilkas. She’s our Harbinger,” she said simply, then left. Vilkas remained where he was, letting the hidden tears streak down his face and splash onto the floor. 

“I can only hope so,” he said to the room at large, then laid down in his bed to sleep. There wasn’t really much else he could do, even if he wanted to. Eating didn’t really bring him any joy, and the food was tasteless to him anyways. After a while Farkas came and checked on him, leaving a platter of fruit and bread nearby in case he wanted it. 

The next afternoon, Vilkas was awakened by shouting. Confused, he ventured out of his room only to be dragged to the main hall by Ria tugging on his arm. “What’s going on?” he managed to ask, only half awake. 

“It’s the Harbinger! She’s back!” Ria cried joyfully, ignoring the sudden balking of the warrior. “And she’s got some really cool armor!” This piqued his interest, and he allowed the young woman to drag him into the main hall before she let him go and ran over to talk to Aelinna. Vilkas stopped after rounding the corner by the stairs, looking at her.

She was surrounded by the other Companions, but she was indeed wearing some very strange armor. It looked like maybe some form of scale armor, but he’d never seen it before. A helm was tucked under her arm, and her hair tumbled free down her back. She smiled and laughed while talking to her shield siblings, but he noticed a part of her seemed different.

He shifted uncomfortably where he was. Was that because of him? While he wanted to go down to her, his fear and his pain prevented him from walking towards them. After what seemed like ages, she happened to glance up in his direction. She did a double take, staring with an expression he couldn’t quite read. 

Vilkas quite suddenly realized he probably looked like quite a sight. He’d barely kept up with hygiene, and he’d lost a bit of weight from not really eating properly. Aelinna handed her helm to Aela, who looked up to see what had captured her attention, then wisely cleared the room by shooing the others outside for a party before leaving herself. 

She drifted over to him, and it seemed like he was in a dream. There she was, vibrant, beautiful, and full of life. Her eyes examined him from his toes to his head, then she looked at him sadly. It seemed like a lifetime before she spoke his name. “Vilkas,” she murmured, making an aborted gesture towards him. “You look awful.”

He chuckled at that, the sound bitter to his ears. “And you look like you did the day I left you,” he replied, and she flinched. Damn, he hadn’t meant to hurt her again. Inwardly cursing himself, he took a cautious step forward. She didn’t back away, a good sign, but she wasn’t willingly jumping into his arms either. 

Her eyes told him to think about his next actions very carefully, and he observed that her body language seemed to convey mixed signals of wanting to hit him and wanting to run away. “Aelinna,” he began, and she trembled. “I’m sorry.” 

Aelinna felt tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him, but she tried to hang on to whatever dignity she had left. While the armor did indeed stretch like Qahnaarin had promised, she couldn’t hide it forever. For now, as long as she didn’t stand sideways nobody could tell. She said nothing, but he could read the shifting expressions on her face. 

“I’m only here to check on the Companions,” she said hoarsely, and wiped away the tears making their way down a cheek. “The Circle doesn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he shot back more forcefully than he intended. He winced when she reacted, and he finally reached forward and took her hand. “We… I… need you.” Golden eyes searched his for a time, but she closed them and turned away from him. “Don’t shut me out, Aelinna,” he pleaded then, trying to embrace her. 

With that she turned back to him, and he could see that she was crying. “You shut me out, remember?” she replied. “You told me to never speak of Kodlak again, like you were gonna kill me.” Vilkas felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart with a knife, and she was slowly twisting it. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have said that.”

Aelinna managed to free herself then, walking away to the table to grab her helm and put it on. Vilkas watched her, trying to find the right words before she walked out of his life forever. “Aelinna!” he called as she reached to open the door to the hall. “Wait.” Bless the Nine, she did, clearly expecting him to say something else. 

He rushed over to her, pausing to gather his thoughts. She looked over at him, confusion coloring her features. Without any thought he grabbed her and kissed her, hoping and praying that she could accept him once again. She responded to the action, but when he went to deepen the embrace she pulled away, and he looked like a kicked puppy. 

“I love you, snowballs,” she said then, and left Jorrvaskr. Vilkas didn’t follow her, at first elated that she had told him she loved him, but then confused over her choice of words before realizing she’d followed that up with an insult. A wry smile crossed his face, and he went back to the table to sit down and enjoy a hearty meal for the first time in over a month. Maybe they could get past this after all. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Aelinna had been amazed at the portals, but the Thieves Guild wasn’t exactly happy to see her there. She had pointed out to Brynjolf that had she actually cared what they were up to, she would have put a stop to them long before now. He seemed to accept that, but still wasn’t friendly with her. 

Flicking a dagger onto her wrist, she flung it at him, and when he went to respond to the obvious challenge, Qahnaarin pointed out that she had nailed his coin pouch to the wall behind him. As he removed the steel from his coin pouch, he decided that she was welcome to use the portals then, provided she didn’t tell anyone they were here. She’d agreed, then left to return to Honeyside. 

Speaking to Iona after Samuel had arrived, she explained that she had a horse in the stables that she wanted the woman to ride to Lakeview Manor while Samuel took the carriage to Falkreath. With all the dragons flying around, Aelinna was worried that her new son might not make the trip safely. 

Iona had given a long-suffering sigh before agreeing, and then Aelinna had told Samuel about his new home and given him a treat before leaving the house again. She’d put on the dragonscale armor, then went down to the Cistern to use the portal to Honningbrew Meadery. Once she got outside, she’d headed over to Whiterun to visit the Companions.

After leaving Jorrvaskr, she rubbed her belly while speaking to the baby absently about getting some food. She was always tired, but now that she wasn’t throwing up so often she found that her stamina was returning. Deciding to go into Breezehome for a bit, she took her time walking back down and popped into Belethor’s and the Drunken Huntsman to procure some more arrows as she was beginning to run low. 

Lydia was happy to see her, and they enjoyed a brisk lunch upstairs while Aelinna took the opportunity to get off her feet and rest a little bit. Chatting with her Housecarl, Aelinna was glad for the distraction and the easy conversation. She found herself so relaxed that she dozed off in her chair, and Lydia helped put her exhausted Thane into bed for a much-needed nap. 

When she woke up she left, heading out into the wilds of Skyrim while thinking. While she was standing there, a courier ran up to her, gave her a letter, and then went into the city itself to deliver more messages and wait to see if he needed to take any to his next destination. Unfolding the paper and reading it, she scanned the contents before slipping it into a pocket and double checking that her bow was still on her back. 

With that she set off in the direction of the Meadery, to see how close she could get to Riverwood to speak with someone. She wasn’t entirely sure who this Delphine was, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to find out. Perhaps she’d gain some insight into this dragon nonsense and maybe get clues about this Miraak fellow. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It took two weeks for Vilkas to notice it had been a while, and Aela bodily shoved him out of the hall to go look for her. He hadn’t the foggiest idea where to start, but the wolfmaiden didn’t care. Harrumphing rather like an old man, he set off for the stables to grab a horse and head in the direction of Lakeview Manor since that was a likely place for her to be. 

Once he got there, Rayya explained to him that she had come and gone while on a quest for the Blades, and should be returning home soon. Since Vilkas had no idea where she could be from here, and he wasn’t about to start searching the kingdom for the blasted DragonBorn, he decided to stay and wait for her. 

During his stay at the manor, he got to know the new additions to the household. Samuel explained to him that she’d adopted him from the orphanage in Riften, and that when she’d arrived at the house to meet him she’d brought a dog with her. He’d begged to keep the animal, and Vilkas learned that the dog was named Meeko. 

After tripping over one of the chickens, Lucia informed him that she had a pet fox named Kit rather proudly. Vilkas began wondering if this place was turning into a zoo. Since the children were often bored after chores were done, Vilkas offered to take them hunting and fishing to pass the time. 

This worked for a few days until Aelinna returned. Then he’d had to help pry the kids off of her, and she’d smiled at him and Rayya for helping. She’d promptly gone to bed, dead on her feet after her trip. Vilkas decided to clean and gut the fish for dinner while Rayya kept the children occupied. 

It was morning before Aelinna woke up, and she was quite hungry. Going downstairs she heard the children bickering in the greenhouse, and she broke them up and sent them outside to play. Heading over to the cook fire, she peered into the pot then spooned out some delicious looking rabbit stew before sitting and chowing down. 

When breakfast was finished she headed back upstairs to put on the dragonscale armor since nothing else fit over her softly rounding belly. Aelinna reckoned people would start noticing now in brightly lit places, but she might be able to get away with it in the dark. Yawning and rubbing her belly to placate the little skeever kicker within, she adjusted the dress over her swollen breasts before laying out the armor to put on. 

“What kind of armor is that, anyways?” She just about jumped out of her skin, squealing as she was startled. “Sorry,” Vilkas added, walking into her line of sight. She made a gesture of it being okay before tugging the gauntlets away from the chest piece so she could put them on in the correct order. 

“Dragonscale,” she replied, grabbing the boots and putting them on the bed. It was easier to have them up here, and she had a feeling that eventually it was going to be a pain to bend over at all. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to wear armor then, but since this was Skyrim that wasn’t at all likely to happen. 

Vilkas reached out and touched the chest plate, admiring it. “It’s very nice,” he said, sticking to small talk for the moment. She nodded in agreement, before grabbing her bow off of the chair and tossing it into the bedspread. As she twisted her body, Vilkas happened to notice and gawked at her.

Aelinna didn’t understand at first, looking down at herself and going “what?” before a light bulb went off in her mind. Oh. she’d turned her body, and he’d seen. Bracing herself, she waited for the dumbfounded warrior to remember how to speak. It was quite comical seeing his jaw drop, then his mouth work soundlessly for a few seconds like a fish out of water.

As she stood there on the other side of the bed, body still half twisted from tossing her bow onto her bed, Vilkas tried to remember how his brain worked. If she hadn’t have moved the way she did, he truly wouldn’t have noticed, but her normally svelte figure had a distinct rounding to it. His eyes were stuck on her belly as though he’d been caught in a paralyzing spell, then slowly roamed up to her chest.

Yep, those were bigger too. Going back down to her belly, he squinted until he could confirm that yes indeed her belly was no longer flat, it was softly rounded. His eyes shot back to hers, and she giggled at the look on his face. She couldn’t help it, he looked like a slaughterfish that had been struck by lightning. 

“Are... are you…?” Vilkas found it very hard to talk. She waited, an amused look on her face as she raised her eyebrows at him. “Are... you… pregnant?” the word barely squeaked its way past his teeth, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. Was there any air in here? He couldn’t tell. His heart pounded in his ears as he waited for her answer.

The Daedra-blasted woman was laughing at him, damn her. Aelinna laughed so hard she fell onto the floor, and he managed to scowl at her. Wiping tears of laughter from her face, she managed to get to her feet again before bursting into giggles at his grumpy face. “Well?” he demanded, and Aelinna giggled again.

“Yes,” she replied, grinning at him. “Nearly very.”

“Is it mine?” he asked, and first she stuck her tongue out at him, then said ‘no’ in response. Vilkas was reaching for his sword when she broke out in guffaws and fell off the bed again.

“Obviously yes ice brain!” she said from the floor, in-between chortles. He sighed heavily, thinking very much that this woman was gonna be the death of him. Walking around the edge of the bed, he stuck out his hand to help her up then glowered at her for her prank. Grasping his palm, she stood up neatly, adjusting her dress back into a comfortable position. 

“Thank you,” she remarked, still giggling here and there. “Now move because I have to change into this armor.”

“Why? More contract kills?” he asked, and she threw a boot at him. He caught it just before it hit him in the face, and she pouted. 

“No, you big oaf,” she said, stripping off her dress so she could begin putting on the armor finally. “I told you, first chance I got I got out of there, and I have never fulfilled a contract with them.” Vilkas looked like he didn’t believe her.

“You know, I never accepted any coin for killing Grelod the Kind,” she said, voice muffled as she pulled the chest plate on over her head. “I didn’t even know it was a black sacrament until the kid told me.” Popping her head out, she then grabbed the lower armor and began pulling it on. “After I sent that bitch to Hel where she belonged, I got a note from the Black Brotherhood and woke up in some shack near my other house, Windstad Manor.”

Vilkas stood still, listening to her explain while admiring her body. It had been long enough that his body reacted, but since he was still somewhat mad at her he mentally punched it back down under control. 

“That was when I met Astrid, who kindly informed me I could kill three bound people, or die myself for stealing one of their contracts. So I did what I had to and killed them all, which pleased her immensely,” she continued, reaching for a boot and sliding it on. Grabbing its twin, she pulled that one on then stood up off the bed and grabbed her bow, slinging it across her back over its matching quiver.

“I never received any gold, just a plate from the boy. First thing I did after receiving my uniform was leave, and I never went back,” she finished, looking up at him. Vilkas responded after a beat, wanting to be certain.

“Where is the uniform now?” he asked, speaking slowly and with care.

“In the bottom of a trunk, hidden in the basement of my home, Honeyside, in Riften,” she replied, crossing her arms at him. He absorbed this bit of information, his face stony. Aelinna rolled her eyes at him before standing up, stretching out a kink in her back before turning around and grabbing some potions from a nearby drawer and stashing them in her bag. 

“Where are you going?” he asked finally, his tone gentle. She looked over her shoulder at him, her face unreadable.

“Why do you care?” she shot back, and he ignored the jibe.

“Because you’re the mother of my child,” he replied without missing a beat, and she conceded that point to him. 

“Look, Vilkas,” she began, facing him again. “I’ve done a lot of things I ain’t proud of, but I will not be confined to bed and board just because some jumpy man-wolf with a grudge wants me to.” Vilkas gave a little snort of laughter even as she irked him. She had a point, Nord women generally were active right up until they gave birth, and Companion women even more so. 

It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to stay home until the baby was born, especially not the DragonBorn who was called to all corners of Skyrim to help. Not in the middle of a civil war with the Aldmeri Dominion looming over them all. There was also the moot to consider, as they were still without a High King or High Queen to rule the kingdom. 

Her golden eyes were like salvation to him, even as he felt like he’d been damned to live somewhere forsaken without her. She looked resolute in her decision, and he came to the realization that she may very well just carry on without him if it came down to it. The pain he’d felt before was nothing compared to this, and that was when he had the epiphany he’d been looking for. 

It suddenly didn’t matter what she had or hadn’t done. She could have murdered a thousand people, and it made no difference to him as he stared down the stark reality of never knowing his child once she walked out that door. In his mind, Vilkas fell to his knees before her. In his mind, he prostrated himself before her, begging forgiveness before he lost it all for good. In reality, he did nothing. 

A thousand lifetimes yawned before him, each one cold and lonely with the contempt of the DragonBorn bearing him down until he was nothing more than a fleshy pulp screaming into the void of the Daedric Princes. He lost his mind and gained it again, all the while she stared at him, struggling to understand his uncharacteristic silence. 

“I’m going with you,” he said finally, meaning it with every fiber of his soul.

“You sure?”

“I’d rather not die without you and our child.”

“Okay.” 

And so they left, together, to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end of the first story arc.


	19. Surprise

Aelinna showed no signs of slowing down as she ran around Skyrim with Vilkas at her side. She checked in on her children often, but as her pregnancy progressed she relied on the portals more and more to get her around. Word had begun to spread that the DragonBorn was with child since she was now too big to hide it, her rotund belly safely confined within her dragonscale armor as she took down draugr and bandits left and right. 

None of the Jarls were impressed with this fact, but as others pointed out it was quite common for Nord women to give birth in the fields and keep going with their jobs. They kept their opinions to themselves as Aelinna grew in both skill and crankiness. The growing babe strained her back, leading her to have a shorter temper while she waddled her way through various dungeons. 

Vilkas had given up trying to give her advice, instead being the heavy hitter while she squatted in cover and sniped from afar with her bow. Thankfully he was smart enough not to say anything when he’d have to come back and help her stand since she was perpetually off balance now, and she’d waddled after him to get whatever item or loot she’d been after. 

Each time an enemy went after what they thought would be an obvious weak spot, Aelinna introduced them to the magic that was her enchanted armor. Rebounding off her belly, she’d then Shout them away while raining down arrows until they stopped moving. It was quite an effective battle strategy, really. 

The fact that she was more underestimated now than before helped make her a deadlier foe, and even Vilkas grew to seriously respect her abilities with the bow. She was so skilled now, it almost seemed like she slowed time itself when she lined up her shots, and her enemies were often felled with a single arrow. 

Sometime around her eighth month, Qahnaarin caught up to her as she tried to unsuccessfully sneak past Heljarchen Hall on her way to Dawnstar for a trip to the mine. Being as big as she was, she was spotted by three rieklings before she popped her head around a corner to see if anyone was there. Vilkas was several feet away, unsure if he was trying to smother laughter or an apoplectic fit.

A very pregnant DragonBorn attempting to sneak around a house while nearly falling over with every step was the epitome of ridiculous. Vilkas didn’t know why they were sneaking in the first place, Jenassa had already given them a standing invitation to come by at any time. Either way, it saved him a headache to not argue with his love and just let her do whatever it was she was trying to do. 

He sighed heavily when she stumbled a bit while peering around the corner, waving to the rieklings who had paused to watch her shenanigans. Apparently they were now the local entertainment, much to his chagrin. He then turned his attention back around to Aelinna, who had her back to the house and was slinking along the wall in the opposite direction.

When Gruk was informed of the visitors, he sent a runner to Qahnaarin immediately, but in the meantime he went to introduce himself to the pair of Nords. He had heard that the Chief had finally introduced himself to the other DragonBorn, but that she was pregnant. He could see now that human gestation must be a lot longer than rieklings, because she looked ready to burst, and it had been months. Too amused to leave it alone, he decided to introduce himself to the curve peeking around the wall. “Hail! Do you need assistance?”

Vilkas casually swiveled his head in the riekling’s direction, looking more bored than embarrassed. “I don’t, don’t know what she’s doing though,” he replied, turning back around to watch as Aelinna was visibly startled by the riekling standing just under the curve of her belly. 

She nearly fell back on her butt, and since she’d been startled, ‘Fus Ro Dah’ shot out of her mouth like it had been braced on her tongue. It wasn’t aimed at anyone or anything in particular, the problem was that at this current moment in time the Thu’um was twice as powerful as it usually was. Legs wobbling beneath her as she tried to get her footing under control, Vilkas rolled his eyes and came over to help.

He stuck a hand out, which she swatted at before grabbing it and was pulled back to her feet. He steadied her as she tried to find equilibrium in a body with a strange center of gravity. Aelinna puffed out air, feeling like she was going to cut this damn child out herself if it didn’t come soon. Unfortunately for her, if her pregnancy was of standard length she had at least another month to go. 

“Uh… Could you please not Shout here? It took us a long time to build this wall.” Gruk found himself involuntarily cringing away from the volume, let alone the shock wave of the Shout. It hadn’t hit anything, fortunately, but this lady was clearly volatile. He didn’t want to risk her getting angry and destroying half of the place before the chief could arrive. “Qahnaarin should be here in a few minutes, so we can show you where the gate is if you need somewhere to gather yourselves.” 

Gruk wasn’t sure about specific human customs, but if it was anything like meeting between tribes of rieklings, they’d appreciate the chance to talk in private. More than likely, they were also hungry and thirsty, but he didn’t want to imply they weren’t strong enough to have brought their own, so he avoided offering anything. “We can also provide a tent or shack if you need to talk before meeting him.”

Aelinna waved him off, but Vilkas wrapped an arm around her lower back and began shuffling her over. “Do you have somewhere close by for her to rest?” he asked, being polite but there was an undercurrent of stress in his voice. She was certainly very large, and various Nord women had begun to comment that she may go into labor sooner rather than later. 

His nervousness was transmitted to the DragonBorn, who responded by becoming cranky. She tried to shoo him off of her, but he had noticed the tell-tale curving of her boots near her toes, which meant she needed off of her feet. He shut down her attempts to complain and cajole, finally looking over at the strange little demon creature with a pained expression. “Can you reach into my pouch there, and grab the sweet roll out of it?” he asked. 

Aelinna perked up at the mention of food, and dug in immediately when Gruk handed it to her. Pulling a handkerchief out of his ebony armor, Gruk wiped off his hands before speaking, choosing every word as carefully as he could. “Is this a normal length of time to be pregnant, for tall ones like you? Our women are only pregnant for about half a year, but this seems to be a bit longer than that.”

As he spoke, Gruk led them to the gate, and from there to the nearby guard shack usually reserved for taking breaks. Vilkas coughed, but the bark of a laugh could still be noted. “Nord women usually carry for about nine to ten months, depending,” he replied, looking over at Aelinna who was making an absolute mess while devouring her sweetroll. Slyly, he let go of her with one arm and slipped another treat out of his pouch to bribe her. 

“Ah ha, well then everything must be going quite well. As my people say, the bigger the belly, the stronger the child,” Gruk stated simply. Aelinna’s head whipped up and around like a possessed thing when she heard that remark. Vilkas nearly shoved the sweetroll into her mouth before she could respond, and she growled at him while chewing on the treat. 

In a near panic, Gruk spoke quickly before fleeing outside, “I’ll go see what’s keeping the chief.” Vilkas watched the funky goblin leave, before turning to Aelinna with a confused expression. 

“What was that thing anyway?” he asked, and she replied with a mouth so full of food he could not understand her. “What?” 

Aelinna swallowed before taking another bite. “I said, it’s a riekling,” she responded, voice semi muffled. 

“What is a riekling?” he inquired, looking mystified. 

“Don’t know,” she said in-between bites. “They come from Solstheim.” Vilkas looked even more confused. “Some island not too far away from here.”

“Ah,” he said, still not understanding but deciding to drop the issue for now. A few moments later, a knock was heard on the door outside. Vilkas held out a hand to Aelinna, indicating that he would get it and that she should rest off her feet for a time. She scowled at him, and he tossed her a little bit of jerked meat to keep her quiet.

From there he went over to the door, opening it and standing back to let whoever it was in. With Gruk in tow, Qahnaarin stepped inside, his eyes sweeping through the room with the confidence of an experienced tomb crawler. Spotting the pair at the low table the rieklings usually used to make tea, he stepped forward with a hand outstretched towards Vilkas. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Qahnaarin, Archmage of Winterhold College.”

Vilkas took the proffered hand and shook it, staring at the dunmer with a bemused expression. “Vilkas, of the Companions,” he replied simply. Introductions completed, Qahnaarin turned to the very pregnant form of the DragonBorn, gently shaking his head in disbelief.

“I told you from the beginning that I would be able to check on you to make sure the baby was safe. Why then is this the first I’ve seen you since showing you Heljarchen for the first time?” Though irritation was clear in Qahnaarin’s stance and voice, his expression told a different story. One of worry and concern, with a dash of amusement at her eating habits.

“I was in the area,” she said, happily munching on the last of the meat and beaming up at him. “Was headed to Dawnstar to pick up some iron to make an addition on my house, whilst running point for a few holds needing help.” Vilkas gave a long-suffering expression to the elf, and interjected. 

“She hasn’t slowed down once, and it doesn’t help that everyone needs the DragonBorn to do something for them,” he explained, looking a little helpless. “I’ve kept her fed and off her feet, but she’s very stubborn.” Qahnaarin put his face in his hand at that, nearly groaning in frustration before he could control himself.

Letting his hand drop once he had regained control of his expression, he spoke directly to Aelinna. “You and I both know you could have dropped by at any time, from nearly anywhere. If that wasn’t always an option, you also could have Shouted for me any time there was a lull.”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he got himself worked up again, Qahnaarin continued, “well you’re here now. Let’s take a look at you, take the armor off so Gruk can make sure it’s in good repair, and I’ll see if I can check on the babe.”

Aelinna shrugged. “There were a lot of dragons, lot of thievery outside the Guild, and then I had to figure out how to deal with bickering children on top of a dragon showing up,” she said. With his instructions she sighed, and Vilkas helped her to stand and strip out of the armor so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. 

Naturally since she’d been running hot, she wasn’t wearing the normal underclothing under the armor. Vilkas yanked a cloth over her, which she batted away in irritation. “Do you know how freaking hot it gets in armor? Gimme a break,” she complained, and he sighed again and dropped the cloth. From there he helped her out of the leggings and boots, until she stood clad in only underwear. 

She looked rather relieved to be undressed, and her breasts strained against the cloth of her bra while her belly almost seemed even larger not cocooned in dragon hide. Handing the armor to Gruk, Qahnaarin gave a few quick instructions in godspeak before turning to his patient. “First things first, let’s take a look at the babe.” Charging up and casting a spell on Aelinna, Qahnaarin knelt in front of her to press an ear against her belly.

“Well that can’t be right…” Shifting position to place his ear lower, Qahnaarin couldn’t help the bewildered expression on his face. Vilkas stared at him as though he had suddenly sprouted wings and a tail. “Huh… Aelinna, give me your wrist so I can check your pulse,” Qahnaarin said, sounding mildly concerned.

Aelinna lifted a hand and gave him her arm, staring in puzzled interest while he sat between her legs listening to her stomach. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was doing, but she trusted him for the time being. Vilkas kept moving like he wanted to go for a weapon, but she wasn’t being attacked so he was unable to do anything. 

Clearing his throat, Qahnaarin stood back up to cast a spell on himself, making his eyes glow blue before kneeling once again. After staring at her belly for what seemed like an eternity, he blinked a few times and the glow faded. “Well… Hmm. Okay.” Getting up again, he wandered over to the small stove in the corner, pouring two cups of warm spiced mead.

Handing one to Vilkas, Qahnaarin finally spoke again. “You’ve got twins.” Vilkas was visibly stunned, grabbing one of the drinks and tossing it back before dropping the cup and falling into a chair. He looked as though he had simultaneously gotten the best and worst news of his life, while Aelinna yawned sleepily. 

“So what’s that you said there doctor DragonBorn?” she asked, having not quite heard him. God it was maddening being so tired and so hungry all the time. Not to mention always needing to relieve herself at the worst possible moments. She lightly slapped a cheek to wake herself up, and tried to become more alert. 

“Twins, two babes. A boy and a girl, by the looks of it.” With the mystery out of the way, Qahnaarin seemed almost nonplussed by the discovery. “You’re going to have a litter.”

Aelinna snorted, then dissolved into laughter. Vilkas looked like he was going to faint. Regrouping, he stood up and went over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She smiled up at him briefly, then returned her attention to her counterpart. “So, two babes then?” she confirmed. “No wonder I feel as big as the Blue Palace.” 

Vilkas winced, but knew better than to try and say anything since the time she’d Shouted him out of the house and off the porch when he’d mentioned her weight. Not aware of this, Qahnaarin simply nodded slowly, “it’s probably why you’ve been having issues controlling Shout strength too. With male and female forces in conflict within you, your soul can barely maintain a consistent flow of energy.”

Aelinna sighed, shifting her feet like they were bothering her. Vilkas moved around until he was near one of her legs, and he lifted her foot onto his lap and began rubbing the back of her calf. He began working down towards her ankle, hoping to ease the muscles and tendons within. “Is there any way to tell when the birth is? Not just to get these things out of me, but, you know, to stabilize my soul and whatnot,” she clarified, scooting down slightly so Vilkas could rub better.

“If I had to hazard a guess, painfully soon,” Qahnaarin answered. “Those two are alive enough to be ready right now, but it wouldn’t hurt to let them stew a little longer.” Pausing thoughtfully, he found himself glancing over at Vilkas before continuing. “Are you familiar with birthing, Companion?”

Vilkas glanced over at him before shaking his head. “Not many were born at Jorrvaskr, usually the women went off into the wilds before returning some years later with children,” he explained. “I’d be surprised if anyone there knew how.” Briefly his mind went to Aela, as she’d been initially raised away from Whiterun before joining them later.

“Well,” Qahnaarin started, “then you have two options. Either Aelinna swears to Shout for me the very moment contractions begin, or I’ll have to confine the both of you here until after the child is born.” Turning towards the DragonBorn, Qahnaarin gave her a very pointed look. “You and I both know I can do it, so your oath will have to be quite strong if you plan to leave here today.”

Aelinna snorted. “I swear no oaths elf breath,” she retorted. “I’ve had enough of those to keep me padded in Sovngarde until well after I’ve died.” Vilkas smacked her hip, which earned him a pop in the ear. He scowled at her, she scowled back. Such love. While she was very stubborn, she wilted under his expression until she finally caved in.

“Alright, alright, I swear by ...oh I don’t know, Paarthurnax’s cloaca that I’ll Shout for you,” Aelinna said then, lightly kicking Vilkas when he swatted her again. Raising an eyebrow, Qahnaarin crossed his arms in waiting for a better oath. “There ain’t much to swear by unless you wanna get Daedra involved,” she whined at him.

Looking over at Vilkas, Qahnaarin seemed to take her suggestion seriously. “Hircine would certainly take it seriously enough. After all, if you failed to uphold it, you could expect to find yourself trapped forever as prey in his Hunting Grounds.”

Aelinna looked like she’d swallowed something sour. “I’ve already dealt with him once, thank you very much,” she said, crossing her arms and pouting like a petulant child.

“If not Hircine, perhaps Boethiah? As the Daedric Prince of deceit, I’m sure her punishment would be far harsher.” Smirking, Qahnaarin turned back to the stove to prepare another cup of mead as he waited for her response.

If eyesight alone could tear him to pieces, he’d be dead thrice over. Her expression was murderous, and as Vilkas kept her from getting up, she sighed loudly before closing her eyes and beginning the intones of a chant. The words were inaudible at first, but eventually she could be heard summoning a Presence to swear her oath to. 

“I summon thee, Akatosh, to hear the Dovahkiin swear an oath to thee. I will call upon my darker self, to aid me in the birth of my children or bear me away to Hel upon my death.” 

Vilkas stared, all but agape as he realized she was actually calling upon the gods. Since she was in fact the DragonBorn, they were more likely to listen and perhaps respond. At least one even called her Champion, when they were in a speaking mood. 

“That’ll do.” Walking over to the door, Qahnaarin opened the door to allow Gruk back in, with the freshly cleaned and repaired armor. “From one DragonBorn to another,” Qahnaarin intoned, “may Talos guide you.” Handing the armor to Vilkas, he winked before lifting a corner, so that the Companion could see the new, larger bra. A quick nod to Aelinna, and he left to let them gather themselves.


	20. Birth

Aelinna certainly felt much more comfortable with the bigger bra, and the freshly cleaned armor. She’d made to waddle off of the property when she was intercepted by Jenassa, who made her sit down and chat for a while and rest. She’d thought they’d be spinning cloth and telling bawdry stories, instead Jenassa reminded the DragonBorn that she was a sellsword with many stories of her exploits. 

It was refreshing to hear battle tales from another woman, one who knew about the weight of daggers when you throw them and the best ways to slice and dice your enemies. Aelinna was enjoying herself, until she grew tired and all but fell asleep at the table. Vilkas tried to get her up, and turned to the household for help with an expression that relayed if he mentioned why he couldn’t pick her up, he’d be murdered in his sleep. 

With a half-smile and a nod, Jenassa signalled one of the rieklings to bring her the teleportation staff. A few moments later, and she held the staff in one hand, and was reaching out to help Vilkas with the other. “We only need to be touching to teleport everyone at once. Come then, I’ll deliver you to her portal in Blackreach.”

Vilkas looked surprised, confounded, and then confused, but touched the arm of his sleeping love who seemed to be down for the count. With that he looked back at Jenassa, giving the nod that he was for the most part ready. He wasn’t sure where Blackreach was, but it must be quite hidden if this was the first time he’d heard about it. 

One burst of energy later, and the three stood inside the vast cavernous city of Blackreach. The massive magical sunlight Qahnaarin had made with Neloth hung high, nearly turned far enough for it to be dark enough for night, though other lights were scattered among the massive stalks of glowing mushrooms. 

To say that this place was massive was an understatement, to say the least. As Vilkas looked around, he felt that perhaps all of the holds could fit snugly in here, maybe all of Skyrim. There was just no way to know without exploring, but the very breath in his lungs told him that this place was very large, and very old. Ancient, maybe older than ancient. 

Twisting slowly in place, so as not to become disoriented, Vilkas spotted buildings both old and newer, bits of dwemer things intermingled with organic life. This Blackreach must be at least as old as the dwemer ruins, if not older. It felt like a whole other world, and as he glanced up, he couldn’t immediately discern a ceiling. 

“Before Alduin came, Qahnaarin had discovered this place, and put a lot of work into making it livable again.” Jenassa smiled slyly before continuing, “we’ve actually been considering petitioning the Moot to officially declare this the tenth hold of Skyrim, with Qahnaarin as its first Jarl.” Obviously fishing for a response, she couldn’t help but glance over at the gawking Vilkas out of the corner of her eye.

Vilkas did a double take at that. “You --what?” he said, before recovering his faculties. Shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts, he cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m sure if you petition the Moot with enough evidence, your request may very well be granted.” His words were stilted and formal, more out of shock than anything else. Moving woodenly, he grasped Aelinna as she let out a little snore against him. 

It was quite amusing what she could sleep through, when it wasn’t a major hindrance. A few moments later, they came upon a small shack. “Within this shack is the portal to her home in Whiterun, I believe. You will need to place her amulet of passage on the divet in the doorway, and to say the word ‘Bex’. Hopefully you will find what you need there, but I’ve been told there are other portals at Breezehome to her other homes, should you need to go further.” With a final nod, as one warrior to another, Jenassa left them to their business.

Vilkas did as instructed, pulling the amulet up from around Aelinna’s neck and placing it on the divet. Speaking the word “Bex” to the doorway, he observed the shimmering light slide into being, and beyond he could see the interior of Breezehome. The cook fire was lit, bringing a golden glow to the room. Renewing his grip on the DragonBorn, he remembered to pick up the amulet at the last moment before stepping through. 

He felt more than heard the portal close behind him, and Lydia appeared as if from nowhere to assist him. Together they managed to get Aelinna into bed, where she slept for the rest of the night. Vilkas shared the bed, but only to provide comfort. Lydia sat in her chair by the doorway, alert as always for potential intruders. 

They managed to get home to Lakeview Manor via the portals as Aelinna could no longer safely ride a horse. From there he managed to convince her to stay home for a little while, and a few weeks passed quietly. Rayya stepped up to care for the children, and the very cranky DragonBorn found herself unable to sleep as well at night.

The little skeever kickers were very active lately, and on occasion Aelinna wondered if she was carrying a litter of pups or perhaps a school of fish. Lucia and Samuel often sat beside her at the table watching her belly move as the twins shifted within, and occasionally one of them would gently poke and then giggle when a hand or a foot poked back. 

Vilkas would then shoo the children away, having them go do chores or play outside to give Aelinna a break. Just when she thought she could finally have a vacation to prepare for the birth, a courier arrived at their home with a letter. Vilkas brought it inside while Aelinna was sunning herself in the greenhouse, enjoying the scent of the plants that were growing. 

Upstairs the baby room addition was just about completed, all it needed were a few more little things and it would be done. Leaning against the doorway, Vilkas held out the paper while looking amused. As she scanned the contents he gave a little chuckle, and she echoed his sentiment. “I’m being summoned to the Moot,” she said, looking up at him. “To testify against Jarl Siddgeir.” 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It wasn’t easy going up the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar, the only truly neutral place in Skyrim. Taking far longer than usual since she had to pause often, Aelinna was the last one to arrive in the conference room. More than one Jarl was visibly startled by her humongous belly, and all attempted to cover up their reactions as best as they could.

Balgruuf was less than amused to see Vilkas with her. “Why are you here, Companion?” he demanded. “The summons was for the DragonBorn, not for you.” Vilkas didn’t respond right away as he assisted Aelinna into a chair. When she was settled, he chose a stony silence that seemed to challenge the man to try and do something. 

“Oh knock it off Balgruuf, the DragonBorn clearly needs help getting around in her current condition,” Idgrod said crossly, sitting down herself at the large table. Voices murmured in agreement with her, and the Jarl backed down. Ulfric said nothing at all, merely sitting near the head of the table with his gloved hands clenched into fists. 

“Settle down, now,” Arngeir said, spreading his arms in a placating gesture to the room. “We are here to discuss the fate of one Jarl Siddgeir, not comment on the status of the DragonBorn.” Aelinna bristled, but a gentle hand on her shoulder soothed her ruffled feathers. A door opened then, and one of the other Greybeards brought in the aforementioned man, bound in rope and gagged with a cloth.

He struggled, but a whisper that seemed to shake the very walls of the room got him to knock it right off. The other Jarls winced and nearly fell out of their chairs while Arngeir glared at the other Greybeard. Ulfric seemed unaffected by this, as he was used to the effects of the Thu’um when it shook the foundation of the monastery. A few whispered words in dovahzul fell from his lips, shaking the ceiling, then the other one left. 

“Now then,” Arngeir continued. “Let us commence the Moot to bring this accused man to justice, one way or the other.” He rapped a little cup on the table, convening the Moot officially. A scribe sat quietly in a corner, writing furiously on a scroll with several more at his side. To Aelinna’s eyes, it looked like there would be official record of this, as there likely would be for the Moot to decide on a High King or High Queen. 

Turning to the bound and gagged Jarl sitting in the chair closest to him, Arngeir asked him how he pled. Muffled shouting and cursing was thrown his way, and without batting an eyelash Arngeir spoke aloud that the accused pleaded not guilty. There was some muttering, which abated when the Greybeard lifted a hand. 

“Ungag him, if you please,” he commanded, and one of the other Greybeards stepped forth and untied the cloth from around the Jarl’s head. With that the room filled with a litany of profanity, which didn’t stop until Arngeir Shouted a single word at him. Siddgeir glared with eyes full of hate, but he fell silent. 

“Now then, we would like to hear from both accuser and the accused on the matter, seeing as this could very well lead to treason,” Arngeir said, rubbing his somewhat sore throat. “Who would like to go first?”

“I will,” Siddgeir said, and his very tone of voice made Aelinna want to punch him until he stopped breathing. The man had always been a slippery snake, but she hadn’t picked up on his pure arrogance dripping from every word until now. He was a complete tool, and she realized that his method of becoming Jarl in the first place seemed much more nefarious. 

Arngeir gestured for him to continue while the others settled in to listen to his testimony. Siddgeir made to stand, but his bonds prevented him from doing so. Upon demanding to be released the Greybeards refused, saying it was for the safety of the people in the room. Siddgeir didn’t like that reasoning but had no way to refute it and stewed in his chair. 

Eventually he began speaking, telling a story of how it was his right as a Jarl to do as he pleased in his hold, including the kidnapping and death of his Thane. Oh, but she hadn’t been kidnapped and wasn’t held in a cave for three days. No, she had come to him to overthrow him without combat and he was merely protecting himself. It had been necessary to have her put far away from the city of Falkreath. All necessary.

Aelinna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All of this complete and utter nonsense, and they were just letting him speak? It was almost too much. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were here right now to bring about justice, she would have yelled for it. The lies that spilled forth like oil oozed from his lips, and she found herself shaking with rage.

When she stood up to object, a sudden pain seized her around the middle. A noise emitted from her like the sound of a dying skeever, drawing all the eyes in the room. Gripping her belly tightly with one hand, the other grabbed at the table to hang on. Aelinna wasn’t sure what the problem was, until she felt her belly squeeze.

“My dear, are you alright?” Arngeir asked, looking concerned. Opening her mouth to reply, she felt a sudden gush of wetness down her legs. She then closed her mouth into a grim line as pain gripped her again. 

“Shor’s beard,” Vilkas breathed, looking down at the telltale wetness. His eyes flicked back up to Aelinna as a mewl of pain escaped her lips. “You’re going into labor.” The room exploded in a flurry of shouting, as no one had any idea of what to do. The Greybeards trundled Siddgeir out of the room, while the female Jarls shoved the men out as well. 

Idgrod managed to shove Vilkas out in the process, and when he protested she told him in no uncertain terms that the DragonBorn didn’t need any unnecessary distractions at the moment. The man relented, and with that the doors were closed and barred. Balgruuf decided to sit down, and the others followed suit. The Greybeards fetched food and drink, as now they were unable to proceed until nature took its course.

Elisif the Fair and Laila Law-Giver helped strip Aelinna down until she was nearly bare, wearing only her bra. Tossing her armor away since it needed cleaning, with the help of Idgrod Ravencrone they got her up onto the table. Instructions went out for hot water, cloths, and rags as well as a blanket. 

The women stripped down what they could, padding the table so Aelinna wouldn’t be chilled on the stone. When the supplies and blanket arrived, Laila hopped on the table and placed the blanket over the DragonBorn to keep her warm before sitting behind her. Shifting Aelinna up, she had the woman brace herself against her while holding onto her hands. 

“Now what?” Elisif asked, getting some rags ready to be dipped in the bowl of steaming water while Idgrod got the cloths ready. 

“Now we wait,” Idgrod replied, looking both amused and mildly pained. “You sure picked a heck of a time,” she added, while Aelinna shot her a look that caused the other woman to chuckle. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Aelinna said, causing the others to stare at her blankly. “Qah Naar In!” The Thu’um reverberated off the walls, and the women clapped their hands over their ears in an attempt to dull the noise. 

The purple portal and telltale thrum of a gate opening seemed the only result, until the confused dunmer and his dremoran guard appeared. Qahnaarin stuffed the papers in his right hand into a pouch, and handed the half-drunk blood potion to Strife before speaking. “What’s all this then?”

The other Jarls openly stared as the elf appeared, before looking back at Aelinna. She squealed in pain as another contraction hit, gripping Laila’s hands tightly while the other woman took careful breaths to contend with her fingers being squeezed to death. Her eyes looked fierce while she tried to keep from tensing her body, but without any real direction she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. 

“Ah yes, the Moot to deal with Siddgeir,” Qahnaarin stated, as he summoned Vile to give Strife the potions of Well-Being. “That’s probably the only reason to have three Jarls in one room from opposite ends of Skyrim.” Casting some kind of Restoration spell that left a giant glowing circle around Aelinna, the dunmer began scrubbing his hands in the bucket being held by his dremoran butler. “Don’t mind the dremorans, ladies, I’m the Archmage of the College; they’re just here to help.”

Nord women have generally seen a lot of things in Skyrim, especially with the dragons returning, but two casual demons took the cake. Surprisingly none of them fainted on sight, but their obvious distrust of this random man who had appeared and was now scrubbing himself was plain as day. “Who are you?” Idgrod asked, while Elisif looked pained. 

Finished scrubbing his hands, Qahnaarin turned more fully to the Jarls, as Vile sent the bucket back to Oblivion and brought forth an entire sack net full of potions in its place. “I already told you that I am the Archmage of the College of Winterhold, but if that is insufficient introduction, I am also her Thane,” he said as he nodded towards Elisif. “We’ve had some disagreements in court before, so I try not to show my face there much.”

Laila exchanged glances with Idgrod, but neither woman said anything in response to this. 

Turning towards Aelinna as if that answered the question, Qahnaarin quickly cast his modified Detect Life spell, turning his eyes a glowing blue that allowed him to see the twins. Almost as an afterthought, he spoke again. “I’m also likely the only wizard in Skyrim skilled enough to handle a twin birth from the DragonBorn, not to mention being Graybeard trained,” he said, oblivious to his exact location. “Which makes me the only one in the room who can handle it if she Shouts at us during a particularly hard contraction.”

Idgrod nodded sagely at this, commenting that it was a wise decision to have called for this man, the Archmage and a skilled healer to boot. There wasn’t any expected answer to this, and she turned to check the temperature of the water in the tub before calling to have it refreshed. They were going to need to keep it hot enough to clean the babe once it was out. 

Now almost entirely ignoring all of the other people in the room, Qahnaarin focused on the twins in her womb, before making a displeased sound. “Well would you look at that, they’re already kicking each other in their bid to be the first one out.” As the circle of healing began to fade somewhat, the dunmer nodded towards the massive armored dremoran, Strife, who had a potion in each hand. Readying himself with the magicka potion at his lips first, Strife nodded for his master to begin.

Aelinna grunted and moaned in agony, glad that Laila was braced against her so not only that she had something to lean against, but when she fidgeted in pain as instinct took over she didn’t fall off and hurt herself. She squeezed her hands with the contractions, but was trying hard not to break the Jarl’s fingers. Laila tried to soothe her Thane with murmured words of encouragement while her body bore down. 

“Do not be alarmed, this Shout won’t kill anyone, it just allows me to keep my hands free and clean while Strife drinks magicka and stamina potions in my stead.” With little other explanation, Qahnaarin started chanting _Gaan Lah_ over and over again in timing with the contractions at Strife, who began drinking potions to compensate.

Since Idgrod and Elisif were merely passive observers at this point, they were able to watch with interest as Qahnaarin chanted the Thu’um over and over again while Aelinna gasped, cried, and occasionally screamed. Her contractions were getting closer together, which meant that at least one of the babes would begin crowning soon. Inwardly two of the women were thankful that this labor was going relatively fast, though the third secretly hoped it wouldn’t go well at all. 

Out in the hallway, Vilkas became visibly distressed when one of Aelinna’s screams was loud enough to be heard. “Relax, Companion,” Balgruuf said lazily, nursing his fifth bottle of mead. “She is doing her work, and gods willing will bring a healthy babe into the world.” Vilkas didn’t seem overly comforted by this, and Ulfric handed him a bottle of ale. 

“This your first birthing then?” the Jarl asked, and Vilkas nodded. “Those screams are normal, it’s when she won’t stop that you should be concerned.” Balgruuf laughed at the look on his face. “I’ve been through enough with my children that I’ve learn to tell the difference in the sounds. You’ll know when the baby’s crowning, it’s in the mother’s voice.”

The other men all nodded at this, agreeing. “There’s not usually cause for concern with us, the women know what they are doing and we’ll be let back in after it’s all over and everything’s cleaned up,” Balgruuf added. With that Vilkas settled down, but he still looked tense. Thankfully no one had any idea that he was the father of these children yet, but he hoped that perhaps soon enough Aelinna could announce it. 

“Fus Ro -- Gah!” Aelinna yelled, feeling like she was being torn in two. Since she’d only Shouted part of the Thu’um it wasn’t at complete power, but the shock wave pushed from her regardless, buffeting Qahnaarin but not enough to knock him over. There wasn’t time to feel guilty over the Thu’um, she let out a combined squeal and mewl while tears sprang into her eyes. 

“Babe must be turning,” Idgrod remarked to Elisif, who nodded without replying. “Let’s hope it doesn’t go breech, that’ll make this much more complicated.”

“Dammit Strife, I told you to wear the amulet!” Qahnaarin nearly yelled between chants. “You should have more Magicka than this!” The hulking dremoran looked genuinely terrified for a few moments while he searched through his pouch, before finally placing a dragonbone amulet around his neck.

With one hand on Aelinna’s squeezing belly, and the other desperately trying to maintain the faltering healing circle, it was becoming increasingly clear that Qahnaarin was reaching the limit of his magicka reserves. Stopping his chanting for good, he finally spoke calmly again. “Strife, it’s time for the backup plan. You know what to do.”

Pulling a silver bracelet with a clear gem at its center and a golden collar out of his pouch, Strife stepped closer to the dunmer through the dozens of empty bottles at his feet. First placing the collar around Qahnaarin’s neck, within short order a dragonbone knife appeared in the dremoran’s now empty hand, poised carefully on his master’s back, ready to be plunged into his heart at a moment’s notice. “I am ready master, should you need it.”

“The bracelet, you fool! Put it on her now, before I make Vile do this and tear out your heart!” Snarling with frustration at the dumb brute, Qahnaarin had long since gone beyond any semblance of patience.

Aelinna straightened out a leg then bent it again, crying in agony as her belly squeezed over and over while the contractions became shorter still. A stretching, burning pain filled her lower region, causing her to scream quite loudly. Grabbing at Laila and holding on for dear life, she kept yelling while lifting her hips slightly into the air.

“There it is,” Balgruuf said from the other side of the wall, lifting his bottle in a toast before drinking. Vilkas looked pale but took a swig from his own bottle in response. 

Qahnaarin hoped beyond hope that the bracelet Strife was fumbling to place on Aelinna would work, or this was going to end up a very bad day indeed. Pulling power from the collar at his neck, he started praying to Akatosh that the dragon soul within would cooperate long enough to deliver the twins. It had been difficult enough to turn the Secret of Arcana into a viable enchantment, but even a dragon soul had barely been strong enough to pull it off.

“Alright Aelinna, I see his head,” the dunmer announced. “Just a few more big pushes, I’ll try to help but I need you to really push hard!” Summoning the power of Blood Magic, Qahnaarin started shifting the babe inside the canal.

Screams tore from her like she was being flayed alive, but Aelinna managed to focus on his words long enough to realize she was being told to push. Unsure of what muscles to use, she just pushed down with whatever would help get the baby out of her. This entailed with the usual messes, but she was concentrating on the little one and not the usual functions.

Laila leaned forward with her, willing strength to her Thane. Shifting to brace herself better without the use of hands, she continued her low murmuring of encouragement in the DragonBorn’s ear. Sweat poured down Aelinna’s face, and at one point Idgrod moved to wipe it away with a cloth, earning her a quick smile. 

Elisif had moved away, unable to slink off but unwilling to actually watch the birth. No one noticed this, but she at least remembered the rags and moved them to the tub before hiding in a corner.

As the babe’s head came into full view, Qahnaarin felt the dragon soul inside his collar begin to stir, nearly distracting him too much to remember to keep the head from lolling dangerously. “Again, Aelinna, one more big one! The head is out!” Summoning Vile again, he directed the rarely flustered butler to give Laila a few healing potions, for both her clearly crushed hands and for Aelinna between babes.

Yells that ratcheted up into screams tore from the DragonBorn’s throat, as she pushed with all her might and felt things begin to tear within her. It didn’t really matter since there was healing in place to keep the blood to a minimum, but it still hurt regardless. The head may be out, but the most difficult was the passing of the shoulders, since the baby often had to be tilted a bit to accommodate the mother pushing out first one then the other.

Idgrod joined in the active encouragement, telling Aelinna to be strong and that this would be all over soon. With the added mental fuel to keep going, Aelinna managed a few more pushes and sent her firstborn son into the world. Sliding into the dunmer’s hands, he deftly used his fingers to clean out the babe’s nose and mouth before flipping him onto his belly and giving a light swat on his buttocks to encourage crying. 

With a lusty wail, the little one let his displeasure be known as he was gently turned back onto his back while his little hands balled into fists.

“Sorry for all the surprises, my Jarls, but this won’t be the end,” Qahnaarin said as he began cleaning the boy. “There’s another still in there before she’s done. Alright Aelinna, I need you to take one of the potions and just try to rest a little while we get your son ready.” Nodding to Laila in acknowledgement of her help, the dunmer started checking the pulse of the umbilical cord before finally motioning Elisif over.

“My Jarl, if you would be so kind as to cut this,” he said. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough free hands at the moment, and I’ll need to heal it as soon as you do.”

Elisif made a face, which prompted Idgrod to take over. “My dear births are always messy, so you might as well get used to it,” she said sharply to the younger woman, all but shoving her out of the way. Lugging the tub of still steaming water, she plopped it into the floor and then grabbed the rags. With quick, methodical swipes she set about properly cleaning the babe, then cooed at him before pulling a meal dagger out from the folds of her clothing and slicing the umbilical cord.

Before anyone had time to react she had deftly tied off the bit still attached to the child, clearly experienced at this sort of thing. With that done, she grabbed one of the bigger rags she had torn earlier, swaddling him with a speed that suggested she had been a midwife herself at some point in time. As Aelinna panted in-between gulps of the healing potion, Idgrod handed her baby to her.

Looking down at her dark-haired babe, she felt an overwhelming surge of love amidst all the exhaustion. “Put him to breast, dear, he needs it,” Idgrod said kindly, patting her thigh and smiling. Aelinna pulled out a breast from her bra, and as the baby began to whine she followed direction to partially squish the breast so it would fit in the baby’s mouth better. 

Within moments he was nursing, quieting down while staring up at her with impossibly large blue eyes. Aelinna looked confused, and Idgrod chuckled. “They all have blue eyes when they’re born, that doesn’t change until later,” she explained to her Thane, who nodded before finishing off her potion. The moments of rest had definitely been needed, but this wasn’t over yet. 

Now that everyone else was suitably distracted with the babe, Qahnaarin took a few steps back and took the collar off. Suddenly far more exhausted, he could barely muster the Shout to purge it, let alone remain standing. It took two Shouts of Rii Vaaz Zol and two grand soul gems before he felt like himself again, so he could finish the purge. Placing the collar back on, he had to have Strife help him up so they could get back to work when needed.

Laila sat back on her haunches, chugging the potion she’d been handed while nursing at least one clearly broken hand. “I don’t suppose you want to trade places with me?” she asked Elisif, who shook her head. “Suit yourself.” As the potion worked its way into her system she flexed first one hand, then the other as the bones straightened. 

Just as the boy let go and settled down to sleep, Idgrod very carefully took him off of Aelinna’s belly. Aelinna made to protest, but Idgrod gave her a look. “You can’t deliver a child safely with another one on you that can roll off,” she pointed out, and Aelinna accepted begrudgingly. “When the other is born I’ll give ‘im back.”

She backed up a couple paces, rocking the babe slightly and humming under her breath. The dunmer deftly took the Jarl’s place near Aelinna, before speaking up, “why not let the father hold him for now? I’m quite certain he’s not far.” As Qahnaarin looked around again to finally gain his bearings, he realized just how familiar this place was, and how much it reminded him of High Hrothgar.

Aelinna winced at the words, but at the moment her body was freaking out with the other babe still within her. Idgrod and Laila both looked interested at Qahnaarin’s statement, as his words sunk in. Elisif had an odd expression on her face, but for the most part was just trying to get through this Moot so she could leave. 

“Who’s the father?” Laila asked while shifting around on the table as Aelinna hissed in pain while her belly began to squeeze harder. Labor definitely wasn’t an easy thing to go through, and she had to do it all over again with the second babe.

“Yol! Tor!” She said between gritted teeth, and some flames erupted from her. “Gods that hurts!” Opening her eyes again, she sighed before answering the question. This was about to get really awkward. “Vilkas is.”

The room was silent until Idgrod began to laugh. “You’re joking,” she said, and when the DragonBorn shook her head laughed a little harder. “Well, this just got a lot more interesting,” she added, shushing the baby as he awoke and began to squall. With that she turned around, heading to the doors to hand the baby to his father. She was going to thoroughly enjoy the reactions of the other Jarls. 

Opening the door into the hall, Ulfric moved out of the way as Idgrod closed it behind her. All eyes were on her, and she smirked a bit before pausing to see who was all out here. “Why are you out here, Idgrod?” Ulfric asked her, looking a little wary for once. 

“To give the baby to his father to hold,” she replied cheerfully, and then made a show of looking around the hall. Idgrod was having too much fun with this, and it showed. 

“You mean the father is here, in High Hrothgar?” Ulfric asked, his hand unconsciously going for his sword. 

“Of course he is,” Idgrod retorted, all but laughing as she strode over and placed the baby into Vilkas’ arms. “He’s right here.”

As Vilkas looked down at the child, swaddled in clean rags, Idgrod patted his shoulder. “It’s a boy,” she said to him, then turned around with the gleeful expression all old women had when they were up to mischief. “Now I have to go and help deliver his twin,” she announced, then went back into the conference room and re-barred the door. 

It may have been tense as Ulfric, Balgruuf, Igmund, Skald, Korir, and the Greybeards all stared at the Companion holding the baby, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy falling in love with the thankfully human child. 

As it was dawning on Qahnaarin that High Hrothgar was the only logical place to hold the Moot, he realized he needed a distraction. Casting his modified Detect Life spell again to check on the babe, he was met with something worse than an awkward greeting with the Greybeards. “Ohhh no…” shaking his head slowly, Qahnaarin couldn't keep the worry off of his face as he announced to the room, “She’s flipped.”

Idgrod looked like she was about to have a heart attack, but as the other two Jarls weren’t mothers they didn’t fully grasp the enormity of his statement. Aelinna let out a renewed squeal of pain, and Laila tensed when she realized her hands were going to break again. “What can you do?” Laila asked, wincing as her palms were squeezed.

“Something very painful…” Qahnaarin solemnly said. “Strife, get the sharper knife, I don’t want to take any chances.” Pulling ever more power from the freshly purged collar, the dunmer’s eyes began to glow blood red with the sheer amount of vampiric power he began to summon. Using Blood Magic was one thing, but this was going to be one of the most delicate castings he had ever done.

Idgrod paled as she watched the demon looking guy pull out a different knife, as she wasn’t sure what was going to happen. At this point, it was best not to distract him or get involved beyond cleaning infants and assisting the mother. Elisif had even turned back at the words, curiosity crossing her face. 

“Aelinna, I’m going to need you to bite down on this,” he said as he summoned Vile yet again, this time to place a small roll of dragonhide between the DragonBorn’s teeth. Speaking to the room at large, Qahnaarin spoke with the tones of someone who would kill to protect a secret. “I would appreciate it if what’s about to happen stays within this room.”

The DragonBorn took the proffered roll without resisting, biting down upon it as though she were a horse and it her bit. She gave a solemn nod, hissing with the pain as the contractions shortened again. They seemed harder, more painful than before. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was sore, or if it was because the baby had flipped within her. Laila murmured more encouragement to her, but was showing signs of flagging strength. 

Gathering all of the strength he had, the Archmage dropped the healing spell from his left hand so he could focus entirely on the Vampiric Grip spell in his right. He had never dual-cast it before, but he didn’t have much choice. Gently taking a hold of the child’s top half with the Grip in his right, and the bottom half with the Grip in his left, he began shifting her within the womb until the head was facing the canal again. Sweat poured down his face with the effort, but that was nothing compared to the discomfort of the mother.

Aelinna screamed through the roll, the sound slightly muffled as she felt the baby being rotated inside her body. Clenching her jaw as tight as she could to avoid biting off her tongue, tears streamed down her face that were wiped away by Idgrod. Words fell from her lips, but it was impossible to tell if it was dovahzul or just profanity. 

The men out in the hall winced at her screams, and Balgruuf looked concerned. “That’s not a normal scream,” he commented. “Something’s gone wrong.” Vilkas shot him a look of mingled anger and terror while cradling his newborn son, and it almost seemed like he was hissing swear words at the Jarl. 

Balgruuf waved off the insult, and looked down at Ulfric by the door. “Hey Ulfric, see if you can pop your head in there and see what’s going on,” he instructed. Ulfric looked offended. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Balgruuf,” he shot back, but Balgruuf wasn’t intimidated. 

“Just take a look and see if everything’s alright,” he replied. “We don’t want the Thane dying on us do we? Not when we need her testimony for the Moot.”

Ulfric made a face, but turned to see if the door was locked. It was, but pulling a little key out of his pocket, he slipped it into the wood and opened the door. Turning the latch carefully so as not to alert those within and distract the DragonBorn at the worst possible moment, he leaned forward and looked inside the room.

After a few moments, he yanked his head back and shut the door a little more firmly than intended, with the expression of wanting to murder somebody.

“Well?” Balgruuf inquired, looking curious. “What’s going on?”

Ulfric turned and looked at the other Jarl, clearly trying to keep a rein on his formidable temper. “Qahnaarin,” he said, and Balgruuf looked confused.

“Who?” he asked, and Ulfric balled a hand into a fist. 

“You mean my Thane is here?” Skald the Elder asked, completely ignored by the rest of the Jarls.

“That milk drinking sop is still here?” Ulfric asked the closest Greybeard, who looked as shocked as Balgruuf was. 

Elisif heard the door snap closed, and wandered over to re-lock it. Not really thinking much about it, she returned to her little corner and pretended that she wasn’t stuck here at this moment. If only she could go to her happy place.

Qahnaarin felt the head begin to enter the canal just as the dragon soul in his collar finally woke up enough to resist him. Just barely holding on to his sanity long enough to speak, he nearly screeched, “Strife! As soon as she’s out!” Letting go of the Vampiric Grip spell in his left to resume healing again, Qahnaarin knew he would only be able to hold out for maybe another minute or two before the Battle Rage took him.

Even as he called out to Aelinna, it sounded more like the growls and roars of a dovah than Tamrielic. “It’s time to push with everything you have left, Dovahkiin!”

Aelinna struggled to maintain a semi squatting position on the table, and Laila almost shouted for help. Idgrod came over and without getting in Qahnaarin’s way, managed to grab at the DragonBorn’s ankles to help steady her as she moved before she slipped and fell. Letting go as Aelinna shifted again, she spat the roll of hide out of her mouth to let out a primal scream while pushing as hard as she could. 

She didn’t notice the other things being removed from her body, she was concentrating on getting her child out as soon as possible before something happened to her or the babe. Her face turned red from the effort, and she once again broke the Jarl of Riften’s hands while gripping with all the strength she had. 

“That’s the head,” Qahnaarin growled through gritted teeth, “one more big push for the shoulders and I can do the rest!”

Aelinna screamed until her throat was raw, and her vision narrowed until she thought she was either going to stroke or have her heart explode in her chest. It took the last of her strength to give it everything she had, and Laila screamed with her as the bones in her hands were painfully ground together and broken further. 

As the first, and then the second shoulder slid out, Qahnaarin felt the edges of his vision getting overtaken in a red fog. With the last shreds of his will, he pulled the babe out the rest of the way and nearly threw her into Idgrod’s arms as he released the Vampiric Grip spell. Even with the spells fading, the collar was still fighting him.

Startled when the baby was thrust into her arms, Idgrod quickly cleaned out the babe’s nose and mouth before flipping her onto her belly for a light swat. Turning her back as she began to wail, Idgrod then wiped her down with fresh rags from a tub that was no longer hot. Noticing this, she looked around for a solution. “I need this water heated,” she said, looking apologetic.

Aelinna turned her head and Shouted “Yol Toor Shul!” at the tub, and the fire that leapt from her was more than sufficient for the job. Idgrod looked surprised, then thanked her before resuming cleaning the child. Done with that endeavor, she then grabbed the other large rag and held it at the ready. “Laila, if you don’t mind,” she said, pointing at the cord that trailed from her to Aelinna.

Laila nearly fell off the table as she stood, and fumbled for her meal dagger. “Let me know when and I’ll cut it,” she replied, looking as exhausted as she felt. 

The struggle within started to make the air around Qahnaarin vibrate with power as he started speaking dovahzul, muttering about how everyone else was weak. He had nearly managed to lunge at the women on the table before Strife finally plunged the finely honed dragonbone dagger into his heart. An instant later, and his spectral form escaped his body.

The women screamed, Aelinna sighed. The events of today were becoming way too much, but at least now it was closer to being over. As Qahnaarin fell down dead, she simply adjusted her position while noting that it felt really strange to have a basically organic rope shift within her in the process. 

**“Please, do not be alarmed.”** Qahnaarin knew from meeting Aelinna that this would heavily shock the ladies, but it was his death or theirs. Knowing he didn’t have much time before he resurrected, and not wanting to have to be stabbed again, he nearly Shouted at the dremoran. “Strife, remove the collar now!” As the armored brute bent down to the body, the strangest sensation began to wash over him, as if his essence was being stolen away. 

Watching the streams of his strength fly through the air, the dunmer nearly panicked thinking the bracelet wasn’t doing its job, until he saw the flow heading towards the newborn instead. With a fearful intonation reminiscent of the day the Greybeards summoned Aelinna, he found himself nearly Shouting, “Do-vah-kiin!” Struggling with every last fiber of his being not to be eaten, he desperately tried to Shout _Mul Qah Diiv_ to strengthen himself, only to feel the infant’s power latch onto the knowledge of it and leave the remainder of his soul alone.

As the baby girl began absorbing the knowledge of Dragon Aspect from Qahnaarin, he was just barely able to restore himself to his now-living form. Still laying slumped on the floor where he had fallen, he quickly summoned Vile. “The soul gems, now!”

Aelinna wondered if her brain stem had snapped, as the other Jarls looked like theirs had. Casually glancing down at the umbilical cord, she noted it had stopped pulsing. Motioning for Laila to cut it, she leaned back onto her hands and began catching her breath. With a quick gesture the cord was cut, and Idgrod tied off the other end then swaddled the baby girl. 

From there she was handed to Aelinna, who looked down at her in exhausted relief. The babe wasn’t sure what was going on, and wrinkled her nose before squalling. A tired chuckle spilled from her, and she moved around so that she could nurse her for a little bit. The child took to breast greedily, her eyes wide at her mother. 

Four Shouts of Soul Tear and a few broken soul gems later, and Qahnaarin managed to push himself back on his feet. “I’m sorry about that, but at that point, the dragon in the collar was about to make me kill all of you.” Only when the expressions of the Jarls soured even further into terror did Qahnaarin realize his mistake. “I mean… Never mind that, it’s complicated. How about we all never speak of it again, and get the afterbirth sorted out, hmm?” 

Aelinna was so busy staring into her daughter’s eyes that she entirely didn’t notice her body working to deliver the sets of placenta, but that was true in the case of many mothers. From everything that had happened, pushing out afterbirth was relatively easy and almost painless. The babe let go and yawned, closing her eyes to sleep. 

All three Jarls were staring at Qahnaarin as though he was either a Daedra or an abomination. It was hard to tell which. Taking the bracelet off of Aelinna before turning to Vile to hand him it and the collar, receiving a fresh bucket and rags in return, Qahnaarin started cleaning himself and the table off. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I think that was quite enough excitement for one day. Remember, never speak of this to anyone.” In a strange wavering, as though a mirage, the dunmer and company simply seemed to fade out of existence.


	21. Spooky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a short one-off side chapter i wrote for halloween specifically, set earlier in the story.

Candles burned from every window in every home in Skyrim. Parents all over were carving pumpkins and turnips, hanging them from tree branches and placing the jack-o-lanterns on available sills. Bonfires burned in town squares, and everywhere people wore masks and laughter often filled the air. 

Aelinna was very confused as she walked into Whiterun, observing masked guards and noting that Warmaiden’s seemed to have a plate of sweet rolls near the front door on the workbench. Adrienne greeted her with a wave before adjusting the leather mask on her face and resuming work on a dagger at the forge. 

Children ran past her, holding little baskets and hollering about treats. It was almost like this was a completely different city, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Making her way to the Gildergreen at the junction between many sections of the town, she noticed that apples that had been carved as well hung from its branches, and candles covered the wooden base around the tree. 

Heading up to Jorrvaskr, she smiled at the wolves that had been cut out of linen wraps and nailed to the front doors. With that she opened the door and slipped inside, wondering what she would find. Inside it was as warm and bright as usual, but there was an absolute feast on the tables being devoured by the Companions. 

“Harbinger!” a chorus of shouted greetings filled her ears, and Njada grabbed her by the arm and brought her over to the table, heaping food onto a plate and setting it in front of her. Looking around, it seemed as though everyone was tucking in with hearty delight, so she decided to join in. The food was delectable, but she still wanted to know just where the hell all these apples came from. 

Soon after, massive pumpkins and impressive turnips were brought in, slammed onto the table while knives and daggers came out to begin carving. Cheers and shouts filled the hall as the merry occasion continued on, but Aelinna was feeling very mystified. She had no idea what was going on, but it did seem pretty fun. She clapped when Torvar showed off a surprisingly well done pumpkin while sloshing around a mug of ale. 

The festive mood in the air did well to raise her spirits, but that didn’t mean she had any idea what was going on. Leather masks were tossed around, and at one point she caught one just before it struck her in the face, earning a laugh and a compliment from Ria while she strapped on her own. 

Pulling the ties around her midnight hair, she deftly tied the mask in place while sipping on some spiced mead. The fiery drink had a hint of apple to it, and once again she wondered how Jorrvaskr had gotten so many in the first place. She’d never seen any apple trees, but somehow Skyrim had plenty of the fruit to go around. 

“Come outside, Harbinger! It’s almost time!” Njada called from the doors, and just like that she realized while she’d been lost in her thoughts, everyone else had finished what they were doing and were heading outside. Standing from the table, she wandered over as Njada waved at her to hurry up before slipping out. 

A bonfire was blazing up at the skyforge, and it seemed everyone had a mug or a cup. Instruments were passed out once everyone was gathered, and soon there was drumming, strumming, and the sound of flutes and singing. Vilkas stood next to the DragonBorn as she watched the dancers, his own mask making him look mysterious in the firelight. 

The sun was going down, and there was a bite of frost in the air. “Glad to see you could make it tonight,” he said, drinking from his mug. 

“Make it to what?” Aelinna asked, itching to find out just what had all of Skyrim so festive. Vilkas turned to her, smiling in surprise.

“Don’t you know what today is?” he asked, and chuckled when she shook her head no. “Today is Samhain, a time when the veil thins and we can celebrate our honored dead.”

“Oh,” was all she said in reply, looking on as the revelers seemed to become more and more keyed up. 

“Is this your first time at such an event?” Vilkas inquired, slinging a friendly arm around her shoulders. He raised his mug and called to his brother Farkas, saying something Aelinna didn’t catch. Farkas said something back, then both men drank deeply from their cups. 

“Yeah,” Aelinna hedged, feeling a little uncomfortable. Vilkas looked down at her, and a grin flashed across his features. 

“You’re in for a treat then,” he said, before shifting to watch the dancers in front of the mighty flames. 

“Why’s that?” Aelinna asked, sneaking another drink from her own cup. 

“Our dead actually show up.”

If Aelinna had whipped her head around any faster, she likely would have broken her neck. Sure enough, as the last rays touched the sky various ghosts appeared, all holding mugs and cups and chalices. Kodlak even made an appearance, holding what looked like a tankard. The Companions cheered when he faded into being, and he greeted his shield siblings warmly. 

The drumming continued, and though it was loud echoing beats seemed to answer in various parts of Whiterun. Everyone was partying tonight as the veil reached its thinnest point, although only the Companions had actual visits from the honored dead. Aelinna found herself getting caught up in the fun, and at one point she wandered over to Kodlak who was laughing at something Aela had said. 

He turned and smiled warmly at her, greeting her like he had the others. “Hail, sister,” he said.

“Hail, Harbinger,” she replied, and he laughed and clapped her on the back. Surprised that the blow struck home, she staggered a bit under his hand which earned more laughter. It felt good to see him again, even if it was for only one night. Everyone seemed especially happy that he had come, and a burden Aelinna didn’t even know she was carrying felt like it had been lifted from her shoulders. 

Eventually Aelinna joined the dancing, somewhat drunk herself. She clapped and sang, stomping her feet and tossing her head while the fire roared on behind them. Ghosts and flesh alike moved and swayed, and it was like the earth itself was joining their party. Such a celebration may be new to her, but Aelinna was definitely seeing the merits of honoring those who had passed on and getting to see them again for a night. 

As the evening went on the Companions seemed to get wilder, fueled by drink and the energy of seeing friends lose their inhibitions. The ghostly brethren were just as energetic, one of which even danced on the ring of stones around the bonfire while more drums picked up and the flutes seemed like they would summon the very Aedra to walk within their midst. 

Some songs were loudly sung, mostly off-key. Those that Aelinna knew she joined in with as a chorus of voices belted out the words, and the ones she didn’t she yipped and howled with those who were too drunk to remember how to speak properly. At one point she thought she saw a werewolf or two spring into being and start dancing, but she wasn’t entirely sure. 

Either way, this was an event she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, regardless of how bad her hangover was going to be in the morning. The Companions danced and sang all night long, and the ghosts remained until the first light of dawn. Goodbyes were passionately shared as one by one the dead returned to Sovngarde, and Aelinna wiped a few drunken tears off her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be back next year,” Vilkas slurred into her ear, and she smiled up at him. Neither of them could stand very well, and her throat was raw from all the shouting she had done, but it had definitely been a blast. She was glad to have come to the party, as she felt like she would have totally missed out otherwise. 

The bonfire died down to coals, and as the sun made its way into the sky, the drunken party goers helped each other stagger back into the halls of Jorrvaskr to sleep the night off. As Aelinna flopped into her own bed, she found herself already planning how next year would be bigger and better. She fell asleep with a smile on her face as the new day dawned in Skyrim.


	22. Motion

Idgrod unlocked the doors and opened them while Laila gratefully drank a healing potion for her hands. Elisif had reluctantly helped Aelinna redress while she held her daughter, and the others grabbed their clothes they had shed for padding and put them back on. 

The men filed in quietly, and Vilkas approached the DragonBorn while holding his son. She sat in her chair, looking tired. He sat in the chair next to her, leaning against her shoulder while he admired his other child. Aelinna murmured that it was a girl, and he smiled at her as though she was a ray of sunshine on his face. 

“Dovahkiin,” Arngeir said from the head of the table, and Aelinna looked up at him. “What are the names of these children?” She looked pensive as she thought about it, then replied carefully. 

“Vardulf, for the boy, and Ylva for the girl,” she said, and he nodded. He then folded his arms for a moment, and it looked like he was praying. 

“One of those children is a Dovahkiin as well, something that hasn’t happened in well over an age,” he added before shifting his attention to the stunned audience before him. “Shall we continue where we left off?”

“What about Qahnaarin?” Ulfric challenged from his spot, and everyone looked around the room.

“He’s not here,” Skald said, looking perturbed. 

“I swear I saw him with my own eyes,” Ulfric stated, and the women bristled. 

“You were spying?!” Laila cried, and Idgrod looked like she had sucked down a lemon. 

“Only long enough to see that milk drinking snowback in this room,” Ulfric growled, and then Elisif spoke up. 

“He was here, but after the birth he disappeared,” she chimed in, and Arngeir held up a hand to silence the room. 

“We are not here to discuss Qahnaarin,” he pronounced. “We are here to discuss the fate of Jarl Siddgeir, so please stay on topic.” A hand waved, and Siddgeir was brought back into the conference room and put into a chair. He looked downright murderous, but things were finally back on track for the time being. 

“Now then, since we have heard Siddgeir’s testimony, I believe it is Jarl Balgruuf’s turn,” Arngeir added, gesturing to the man. Balgruuf nodded, then stood and explained how Aela the Huntress had come to him with a letter and a signet ring entailing of a bounty on his Thane’s life, and from there that had led to the Companions tracking down the DragonBorn to have her informed of the plot to assassinate her.

With that it was Aelinna’s turn, and she chose to remain sitting since Ylva made noises of discomfort and protest every time she tried to move. She explained how Vilkas had been assigned to her as a bodyguard by Jarl Balgruuf, and that after about two months she had been kidnapped from her home by some bandits.

From there she spoke of how the bandits had taken her to Moss Mother Cavern, where she’d been held for three days before a raiding party consisting of Vilkas and troops from Whiterun had stormed the place to help her escape. When Ulfric asked if she’d been taken by bandits why she was accusing Siddgeir, Aelinna explained that on her first day in the camp as a captive, he had come to speak with her.

Various expressions of shock rippled throughout the room as she talked about what the Jarl had said to her, and that she’d expected to either die in the camp or at least be held for a tremendously long time before Siddgeir decided on what to do with her. When she was done she simply stopped speaking, and Arngeir thanked her before turning the room over to the other Jarls to decide on what to do next. 

There was a lot of murmuring as they conferred with one another, but a decision like this wasn’t one that could be rushed. Every now and then a question would be asked, and Aelinna would either repeat herself or provide more detail on something that she had relayed. After what felt like hours, a decision was made. Arngeir asked each Jarl of their final decision, and they all said the same thing: exile. 

Arngeir bowed his head in acknowledgment, then made his pronouncement. “Jarl Siddgeir, you are hereby stripped of your title and banished into exile until you die. Dengeir of Stuhn will rule in his place.”

Siddgeir tried to rise to his feet in rage, but Wulfgar whispered something in dovahzul; causing the room to shake and the very air to vibrate with power. Everyone staggered, Aelinna managed to stay in her chair but Vilkas was down on one knee on the floor, cradling his son protectively while the rest fell off the chairs onto the stone. 

Arngeir looked on passively while Wulfgar brought the stunned Jarl to his feet, then handed him off to Ulfric to be transported away to live out his sentence. Ulfric didn’t waste any time putting the gag back over Siddgeir’s mouth to cut off the stream of curses beginning to fall from his lips, then drew a war axe from a sheath at his hip to hold at the other man’s side and marched him out of the room. 

The others simply stood up, ready to return to their homes. Balgruuf stayed long enough to congratulate his Thane on the birth of her children, before flicking his eyes over to Vilkas. An expression flitted across his face, one that the other warrior just barely caught. Vilkas frowned, noting the growing storm behind the Jarl’s eyes as Balgruuf turned to leave himself. 

A small sound of discomfort distracted Vilkas, and he lightly bounced the babe to quiet him. Aelinna traded children with him, struggling with her armor for a few moments before helping Vardulf to latch on and nurse again. Gazing down at his daughter, Vilkas was lost for a time before the sound of a throat clearing made both of them jump. 

Arngeir was there, and he had a beatific expression on his face. “Dovahkiin,” he said respectfully, “may I hold your daughter?” Vilkas exchanged a look at his lover, but she nodded her head in a way that conveyed she was giving permission for him to hand Ylva over. With that he turned, carefully shifting the swaddled babe into the Greybeard’s arms. 

The rare look of anxiousness on his face caused Aelinna to chuckle softly, as parenthood was new to both of them. They watched as the old man smiled down at the little one, murmuring in dovahzul to her and rocking her a bit as she tried to fret. After a few moments he looked back up at the pair, his face a mixture of elation and worry.

“Ylva is a Dovahkiin, same as you,” he began, speaking cautiously. “But her brother is something else.” Both of them frowned at him in confusion. “Vardulf, did you say his name was?” As a nod confirmed the name, Arngeir continued. “His energy… it is more like Qahnaarin’s in nature.” With that he placed the babe back into Vilkas’ arms, stepping back and folding his hands into his sleeves.

“I will meditate on this, and speak with Paarthurnax. You should probably head home before Ragnarok comes knocking,” he finished, then bowed and left the room. Finally alone again, Vilkas turned to Aelinna with an odd expression on his face.

“What?” she asked, cradling Vardulf behind his head as he drank greedily at her breast, a tiny fist cupping against her while she supported him with her other arm. 

“Nothing,” he replied, but she could tell something was bothering him. As she stepped closer to him Vardulf tugged on her necklace, causing the catch to slip loose and the golden chain to drop on the floor. Aelinna puffed out a sigh, not realizing that it hadn’t been tucked back under her armor where it was supposed to be so that the baby couldn’t grab it in the first place. 

Vilkas looked down at it, momentarily puzzled. "An Amulet of Mara? Surprising." Aelinna smiled, a little embarrassed. 

“It’s the one from my home in Lakeview Manor, I was wearing it for magicka relief in restoration spells,” she replied softly, and he looked back up at her while Vardulf nuzzled at her, and she deftly had him switch sides and continue nursing. “Why?”

"I'd be glad to stand by your side until the Divines take us, i..if you'll have me." He appeared both hopeful and hesitant as he said the words, cradling his daughter closely to him as if she could protect his heart should the DragonBorn say no and completely turn him down. 

“I will. Together, then,” she murmured, her expression softening as she showed him the love she felt for him and her children. That she’d felt for a long time now, but only admitted to once in her anger. 

"Together." Vilkas felt like he’d been born anew again, but this was better than when he’d been cured of his wolf spirit. This was better than breathing freely without a beast using his eyes and voice, it was like seeing Sovngarde for the first time without having died first. He stepped to her then, exchanging a tender kiss with his future bride before Ylva squalled and caused both of them to laugh. 

With that they both left High Hrothgar, to rest and adjust to life as parents as well as planning a trip to Riften to be married in the Temple of Mara.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ulfric stewed in his anger as he sat on his throne. Galmar was talking about the war again, but he wasn’t listening. Drumming his fingers on the armrest of the stone chair, his thoughts once again went to that snowback Qahnaarin. The man who had convinced him to kill Torygg in the first place, causing him to not only be thrown out of High Hrothgar, but also to completely abandon his path to becoming a Greybeard himself. 

It had been his intention to return to the Path after the Great War ended, even though he’d been fired up with the talk of independence at the Moot that had crowned Torygg in the first place. There had been a burning resentment in his heart when Hrolfdir had betrayed him and the Empire had expelled him and his men from Markarth to be scapegoats to the Aldmeri Dominion. 

While he had been bitter to the imperials after that, a slow realization set upon him as it occurred to him that Qahnaarin had tapped on those emotions when he’d been convincing him to go after High King Torygg and show that Skyrim must be freed from a crumbling Empire already defeated by the Thalmor. 

He’d been focused on the war effort to liberate Skyrim from the Empire lately, but he hadn’t forgotten about the dunmer who’d put him here in the first place. With that he sat up in his throne, then stood up entirely.

“Galmar,” he said suddenly.

“Yes?” Galmar replied.

“Shut it. I’m going to Dawnstar.”

“Yes, my lord,” Galmar said, bowing respectfully and moving out of the way while Ulfric moved down the dais and towards the front doors. Without looking back, the big man headed out through Windhelm towards the stables, to grab his horse and begin the journey to Dawnstar. If anyone had any information on what Qahnaarin was up to, it would be Skald. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Jarl Skald the Elder was just laying down to sleep when a guard burst into his quarters. “For the love of Talos, what is so damned important you had to interrupt my sleep?!” He demanded, looking highly annoyed. 

“My lord,” the guard said, sounding panicked. “Jarl Ulfric is here.”

“Ulfric?” Skald repeated, getting up. “What in the blazes does he want?” Rubbing his eyes, he followed the guard out of the room and back to the main hall. Ulfric was indeed standing there, looking as smug as ever. God he hated him. Not for his cause, that was just. It was his attitude he couldn’t stand. All high and mighty just because his father died while he was rotting in prison. 

Skald managed to derail his current thought train as he headed over to his throne and sat down. “Ulfric,” he greeted. “What brings you here at such an ungodly hour?”

Ulfric noted the other Jarl had forgone the usual social pleasantries and guessed he wasn’t happy about being woken from his bed. The hour was late, true, but he couldn’t wait until morning to talk to him. This was a more pressing matter.

“I came to ask you about your Thane,” he replied, his voice gruff with his own exhaustion. 

“Qahnaarin? Why?” Skald asked, frowning at the scruffy bear of a man. 

“I need to know what he’s been doing lately,” was the terse answer.

“Listen, you mongrel pup, I am no more his keeper than I am his mother. You want answers about him, ask him yourself,” Skald said crossly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Where is he?” Ulfric asked, growing short himself. 

“How the Hel should I know? I just told you I’m not his mother,” Skald snapped. “He has a house in my hold, you should have tried there instead of bothering me.”

Ulfric clenched his jaw and swallowed down his rage. It would be no good to shout at this stubborn mule of a man, especially an ally to his cause. Taking a few deep breaths and calming himself, he exhaled through his nose like a dragon exhaling smoke.

“Where would I find this house?” He inquired carefully.

“Near Loreius Farm,” Skald replied, gruffly. 

‘Where?’ Ulfric thought to himself. 

“Now get out.”

Snorting, Ulfric obeyed by turning around and leaving the hall. Stupid old man, ordering him about like he was a soldier in the army still. Whatever. He knew where to go now, albeit he hadn’t the faintest idea of how to get there. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Vilkas yawned hugely, looking around the room to see where the DragonBorn had gotten off to. As his vision focused in the dim light from the sconces in the wall, he realized Aelinna was sitting by the little carved bassinet holding one of the infants. “What are you doing?” He whispered, awake enough to be curious but strongly wishing to go back to sleep. 

“Feeding Ylva,” was the murmured reply. Yawning again, Vilkas got out of bed and sat down on the floor beside her, resting his head on her knee. 

“Did she wake you?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah, but she didn’t scream this time,” Aelinna said, and he found himself worrying about the dark rings under her eyes. 

“You know, Jorrvaskr has wet nurses in case you need a break,” he suggested. Aelinna frowned at him.

“I’m just tired,” she mumbled in response, trying to scowl at him. He reached up and squeezed her thigh. Without saying it aloud, he willed his concern to her that she was running ragged trying to care for twins. 

As Ylva made a small sound, Aelinna placed her back in the cradle before checking on Vardulf in the one next to it. He was sound asleep, so she pushed Vilkas’ head off her lap and stood up. Taking a moment to stretch, she then padded back to bed. 

Pulling the coverlet over her shoulders, Aelinna sleepily looked over at Vilkas. “How can you sleep through their cries?” She asked, some of the words slightly slurred in her tired state. 

“Farkas snores very loudly on the trail,” he replied, and she chuckled. “Goodnight, dear,” he said, kissing her nose before they went back to sleep.


	23. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song featured in this chapter is Krigsgaldr by the band Heilung.

Vilkas continued to worry, despite Aelinna claiming she was fine. She certainly didn’t look fine, but somehow she was managing to hang on. As the days turned into weeks her body began slimming down to her normally svelte form, but her breasts were still larger than usual with the swelling of milk. 

He’d threatened to bring Qahnaarin in more than once, but her aggression was short-lived in her perpetually exhausted state. She just didn’t have the energy to fight him when she was trying to figure out how to parent two children at once. Vilkas had taken to asking various women in Falkreath and Riverwood about things that could help her, and he found that feeding her a honey gruel mixed with oats and a combination of potions seemed to work best.

From time to time he would leave Lakeview Manor to hunt, but it was more to occupy his mind than to truly get them any food. A large part of him wanted to go home to Jorrvaskr and have the other Companions help raise the children, but Aelinna wasn’t ready to travel yet, and he was concerned about bringing newborns out into the wilds. 

He didn’t like existing like this, wasn’t used to it. He knew strategy, combat, war, but not parenting. It was why when he came in, carrying the field-dressed buck over his shoulders he decided to plead his case with the DragonBorn again. Leaving the deer in the greenhouse to be cut and quartered into meats later, he sought out his exhausted lover.

Aelinna was in the bedroom, sleeping on the bed while the infants were in their cradles. Sitting down carefully on the edge of the mattress, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. A bleary golden eye opened and looked up at him, and he smiled encouragingly. “Dear, I really think we should consider moving to Jorrvaskr for a while,” he murmured, and Aelinna rolled onto her back with a sigh.

“Lucia and Rayya are already in Whiterun, and she would love to meet her new siblings,” he added, trying his best to persuade her. Aelinna looked at him, then back at the ceiling without saying anything. Vilkas dared to hope, resting his hand on her belly while listening for the sound of either twin fussing in their beds. 

“Alright,” she said quietly, accepting defeat. “We’ll go tonight, when there’s less chance of a bandit attack.” Vilkas nodded, getting up and letting his lover return to her much-needed nap. Now he just needed to pack their belongings onto their horses and make the trip. Heading downstairs, he began packing up food, potions, clothing, and baby things.

Making multiple trips in and out of the house, he made sure to pack as much as possible into the saddlebags on their horses. It took him a while to get everything he felt they needed, but once he was done Vilkas was confident that all the necessities were going along with them. Back inside again, he went about preparing her special meal before grabbing the buck out of the greenhouse and lashing it to Tavi outside. 

He was just stirring up the bowl to get all the ingredients together when Aelinna came downstairs, carefully cradling both children. By some miracle of the Gods both babies were still asleep, and he strode forward to take his son from her arms so she could get something to eat. Sitting down slowly so as not to wake Vardulf, Vilkas watched as the Harbinger began to eat her food. 

A silent prayer of thanks went up as he noted that she ate every drop of the gruel, even though it must not taste the best. Aelinna sent him a faint smile as she managed to put her spoon down, then shifted Ylva a little bit so that her arm wouldn’t fall off. When a small sound of protest went up, both parents froze. Tense seconds passed, then Ylva settled back into whatever constituted as deep sleep for a baby. 

With dinner over with, Vilkas carefully placed Vardulf on his back on the table within arm’s reach of his mother while he motioned he was going to put the dishes away. Aelinna nodded, so he grabbed her bowl and spoon and hustled off to the back of the house. Grabbing the tray of dirty dishes, he slipped outside and went down to the lake and deftly scrubbed each dish and utensil.

Adding a foaming agent that was made from ground up herbs, he diligently worked to remove all traces of food that might have been left. When that chore was done, Vilkas went back into the house and put the dishes where they belonged. From there he picked up Vardulf, then disappeared downstairs into the cellar. 

To say that Aelinna was confused by this would be an understatement. She had moved over to the front door in the entryway, wondering what the Companion was up to. He returned a few minutes later with some odd leather contraptions that she didn’t recognize. With that he ushered her out the door, and everyone went outside. 

The sun was going down, and the torches outside lent helpful aid in seeing what they were doing. Allie and Tavi were saddled and waiting, with bags looking ready to burst on their sides. Allie nickered a greeting, and the DragonBorn turned to look at her lover with an expression that wanted to know what he was up to now. 

“These are for the children,” Vilkas explained, holding up the bunches of leather. Aelinna’s expression caused him to laugh, though he did his best to do so quietly so the babes wouldn’t wake up. “We wear these, and the children sit in front while allowing us use of both our arms.”

“O...kay,” Aelinna replied, not sure how that was going to work.

“Here, let me show you,” Vilkas said, handing her Vardulf for the moment. Holding up the big part of the leather, he pushed it against her chest then slid around behind her and began buckling some straps. While he was tugging and adjusting, she realized there was a pouch hanging from her. When he was done, he held up his pouch and attached it to his body, although she had to help with the buckling of the straps.

“Now, we just place a baby inside, and they should stay put,” he boasted, sounding confident. Aelinna arched an eyebrow at him, so he picked up Ylva and gently placed her in the pouch hanging from Aelinna, tucking her swaddled form in a little bit. Her head rested on Aelinna’s chest, and as she handed Vardulf to him, he did the same with his son. 

Vilkas held his arms out in a manner suggesting that she try it out. Aelinna sighed, then twisted her torso experimentally. Ylva was indeed tucked up against her, only jostling slightly which was fixed when Vilkas tightened a stray strap on her back. He did the same, then tugged on a different strap on his body. 

“We’re ready to go,” he said, then swung into his saddle. Somehow he did so with only minimal jostling, but Vardulf didn’t like being moved like that and began to fuss. Shushing him, Vilkas rested a palm on the baby’s head until he quieted. A thought occurred to him, and he reached into a saddlebag. Pulling out a bit of cloth, he wheeled Tavi around and tossed Aelinna a second piece.

“It’s a hat,” he explained, showing her as he pulled the cloth into place on the baby. Aelinna copied him, then nudged Allie girl forwards until their mounts stood next to each other.

“Where did you get these hats and pouches?” she asked, both confused and impressed.

“I made them,” he replied.

Aelinna wondered how in the world he’d managed to find the time, let alone the resources. He smiled at her, then flicked the reins and began to move out in a trot. Following along behind him, they set off on their journey back to Whiterun. The night air was somewhat chilled, and she became grateful that Vilkas had had the foresight to put hats on the children to keep them warm as they moved through the countryside. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

During the night they’d gotten lucky, mostly only running into elk. The one pack of wolves they’d managed to outrun, and the dragon Aelinna had spotted in the sky had flown off instead of coming in to try and make them lunch. Vilkas wondered for the umpteenth time if one of the Gods was smiling on them as they moved. 

The moon shone down brightly on them, illuminating the landscape as it moved through the sky. As they moved swiftly along the wild grasses, Aelinna found herself softly humming a song while they galloped. The words were as old as the rocks themselves, but she found the tune to be comforting. Vilkas heard her humming at one point, and he gently sang the words to her tempo. 

_Min warb naseu  
Wilr made thaim  
I bormotha hauni  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Got nafiskr orf  
Auim suimade  
Foki afa galande  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Min warb naseu  
Wilr made thaim  
I bormotha hauni  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Got nafiskr orf  
Auim suimade  
Foki afa galande  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_What am I supposed to do  
If I want to talk about peace and understanding  
But you only understand the language of the sword  
What if I want to make you understand that the path you chose leads to downfall  
But you only understand the language of the sword  
What if I want to tell you to leave me and my beloved ones in peace  
But you only understand the language of the sword  
I let the blade do the talking  
So my tongue shall become iron  
And my words the mighty roar of war  
Revealing my divine anger's arrow shall strike  
All action for the good of all  
I see my reflection in your eyes  
But my new age has just begun  
The sword is soft  
In the fire of the furnace  
It hungers to be hit  
And wants to have a hundred sisters  
In the coldest state of their existence  
They may dance the maddest  
In the morass of the red rain  
Beloved brother enemy  
I sing my sword song for you  
The lullaby of obliteration  
So I can wake up with a smile  
And bliss in my heart  
And bliss in my heart  
And bliss in my heart_

_Coexistence, Conflict, combat  
Devastation, regeneration, transformation  
That is the best I can do for you  
I see a grey gloom on the horizon  
That promises a powerful sun to rise  
To melt away all moons  
It will make the old fires of purification (of purification)  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers  
Look like dying embers_

_Min warb naseu  
Wilr made thaim  
I bormotha hauni  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Got nafiskr orf  
Auim suimade  
Foki afa galande  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Min warb naseu  
Wilr made thaim  
I bormotha hauni  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

_Got nafiskr orf  
Auim suimade  
Foki afa galande  
Hu war (hu war)  
Hu war opkam har a hit lot_

Their voices rose and fell in harmony with each other as the ancient tongue flowed from their lips, and indeed comfort came to them both. As the song died away on the wind, Aelinna swore that she could hear the drums playing with them. Perhaps it was just latent magic in the air, summoned by the words that were older than Skyrim itself?

It also seemed to help make the passage of time seem shorter, as they rode to Whiterun’s gates. Two guards flanked the doors as always, and Aelinna helped Vilkas grab their things from the saddlebags. Carrying a multitude of items, the DragonBorn felt very over-encumbered as the guards let them into the city itself. 

Since it was very late, no one was about save for those on patrol. The exhausted pair picked their way through the street until they got to Breezehome, and from there went inside. Lydia was leaning against a wall, and greeted softly before heading up to bed. Vilkas and Aelinna went straight to bed themselves, pausing long enough to put down a pile of furs and placing the babies on top of them.

Aelinna changed their cloths, and nursed them both for a little while. Vilkas assisted as best as he could, then they put the babies down in the makeshift bed and flopped onto the mattress to sleep. Immediately falling into a deep slumber, both parents were able to get a fair amount of rest in. Lydia, having been woken up here and there by one babe or the other, carefully eased their fussing so that the DragonBorn could have her rest.

When morning came, the room was blissfully quiet. Opening her eyes slowly, Aelinna was grateful for the silence until her brain kicked into gear. Jolting upright in bed, she startled Vilkas awake. Sitting across from her in her customary spot was Lydia, who was bouncing a happily cooing Vardulf on her knee. 

Confusion crossed her face, and she looked down to see Ylva in the bed of furs; who was playing with some strips on leather while lying on her back. “Good morning, my Thane,” Lydia said, sounding cheerful despite the exhausted look on her face. “I figured you came for some help, so I kept them occupied so you could sleep.”

Aelinna thanked her profusely, then picked up Vardulf. Placing him on the bed, she quickly changed him, rubbing a smear of herb paste to chase away a slight tell-tale redness. From there she picked him up again and sat down at the head of the bed, then pulled out a breast for him to nurse. Vilkas smiled as he got up, having wisely chosen to sleep in his breeches for the night.

Picking up Ylva, he made a few little noises at her before changing her as well. Checking for signs of a rash, he smeared some of the herbal paste as a preventative measure, then let her sit in his lap with the leather strips. He kept an eye on her, as choking would have been bad, but it seemed as though Lydia had cut them long and thick enough that she couldn’t quite get them into her mouth in the first place. 

When Vardulf pulled away and made a sound of annoyance, Vilkas traded with Aelinna. As she began to nurse her daughter from the other side, Vilkas placed Vardulf against his chest and began to burp him. Fifteen seconds later, he felt a sudden wet sensation on his back and made a face. Lydia, bless her soul, was doing her best not to laugh as she went downstairs to fetch some cloth and a bucket of water.

Smiling, she took Vardulf as he sighed and began to clean his back of the spit-up his son had so graciously gifted him. Aelinna managed to keep her own amusement under control, while Lydia gently rocked the babe as he was beginning to fuss. “So, did you come for just the night?” she asked the DragonBorn, who made a face at her Housecarl. 

“I’ve come to stay in Jorrvaskr for a time,” she replied succinctly, not wanting to divulge any more information than that. Thankfully Lydia didn’t ask for an elaboration, and as Ylva finished her breakfast, Vilkas dressed while Aelinna had the Housecarl assist her with the funky harness. Once that was done, Lydia slipped Vardulf inside the pouch, and touched his head fondly while Aelinna put his little hat on him. 

Lydia then helped Vilkas with his own harness, and placed Ylva in her respective spot. Hat tugged on, the parents bid Lydia a warm goodbye before picking up their belongings and heading outside into Whiterun. The sun glowed brightly in the sky, and it looked to be a lovely day. People chattered and the anvil sounded from Warmaiden’s as they moved towards the heart of the city.

Many stopped and stared when they realized the Thane of Whiterun had a child strapped to her body as she moved up the steps into the cloud district. Aelinna ignored them in favor of bee-lining it to Jorrvaskr, and managed to haul herself and the belongings she clutched inside. Vilkas slipped in behind her, and they set their bags and pouches down.

Tilma the Haggard appeared seemingly from nowhere and began grabbing their things and quietly moving them to the living quarters. As she did so, Farkas looked up from his breakfast at the table and spotted them. “Brother!” he cried, abruptly getting up from his chair and jostling the table. Standing straight, he rushed over to the smiling pair before he spotted the children. 

“Is that...?” he began, and Vilkas nodded. 

“Your niece,” Vilkas replied, then pointed to Aelinna. “And nephew.” 

Aela had noticed Farkas standing quite oddly, so she got up from her own meal and approached her shield-siblings. As her amber eyes fell onto Ylva, a peculiar expression crossed her face. She was smiling, and quite broadly. Farkas backed up a step, and Vilkas moved his arms protectively over his daughter, who began to squall. 

“May I hold the child?” Aela asked, holding out her arms. Vilkas carefully lifted Ylva out of the pouch, and though her arms were free, her lower body was carefully swaddled in some cloth over a leather diaper. Aela took the babe with careful reverence, beaming down at the child. Farkas reached out to touch her little head, and Aela snarled at him.

About two seconds later, Vilkas had gotten his sword free and rested it under his shield-sister’s chin. The point of the blade rested against her throat, and her shocked gaze took in the expression on his face. His silver eyes were hard, like stormy steel on the battlefield. Everything in his stance belied that should she choose her next move poorly, he would end her life right then and there and send her to Hircine’s eternal Hunting Grounds.

Jorrvaskr fell silent as the other members realized one of the Circle members had a blade drawn against one of the others. Tension slowly filled the air while Aela considered her mistake, and Farkas held out his arms. Aelinna moved very slowly behind Vilkas, and she pulled Vardulf out of her pouch and quietly put the baby into Farkas’ arms. 

Showing the warrior that she wasn’t a threat, Aelinna then moved slightly back so Farkas could hold his nephew and gently rock him a bit. Turning back to the standoff, she observed Aela swallow before opening her mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry, brother,” she said carefully. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Vilkas narrowed his eyes at her, tightening his grip on his sword. As Aelinna and Farkas looked on, both wondering if there was going to be a bloodbath, he finally relaxed and put his blade away. From there he took the baby away from Aela, who backed down without complaint, bowing her head to him. 

Conversations at the tables resumed as the overall atmosphere of the room returned to normal. Farkas bounced Vardulf a little bit, the action slightly awkward as he wasn’t quite sure how to do it properly. “What’s his name, sister?” he asked, his eyes gentle as he gazed at the Harbinger. 

“Vardulf,” she replied, smiling at him as he held his burbling nephew. “And his sister is Ylva.”

“Good names,” Farkas said, then returned his attention to the baby, who reached up and began to tug on his hair falling around his face. A tiny smile played on his lips, and Aelinna lost herself in the happy moment as family bonded. “He will make a strong warrior,” Farkas added as the infant tugged particularly hard on a lock of hair. 

Vilkas chuckled while he held Ylva to his chest, stroking her back. “They live up to their heritage,” he said to his twin, who nodded. Aela spoke up without lifting her head, still licking her wounds after being put in her place. 

“Are they… like me?” she asked, her tone hesitant and full of caution. Vilkas looked over at her, then looked away as Ylva began to whine and he started twisting and dipping his body to amuse her and get her to stop. Aelinna was watching him, having decided that though she was the Harbinger, at this moment he was the one in charge and to undermine him would not be a good idea. 

“No,” he finally replied. “They are human children.” Aela nodded, then turned as she thought she heard someone say something. With that she walked away, though Aelinna was pretty sure no one had called out to the Huntress to get her attention just then. It was likely for the best though, everyone needed to cool off after that little bit of action. 

“How long are you here, brother?” Farkas asked after a time, shifting Vardulf to rest in his other arm and watching his twin sway around in his armor to get Ylva to laugh. He exchanged a look with Aelinna before deciding to answer. 

“Until the DragonBorn is called away, after our trip to Riften,” Vilkas said, being somewhat vague. 

“What’s in Riften?” Farkas queried, his face a mixture of confusion and interest.

“The Temple of Mara.”

Farkas often said he wasn’t as smart as his brother, but he caught on quickly to the statement. “You’re going to a wedding?” he asked, and Vilkas nodded in return. “Who’s?” 

With that, his twin gifted him with a broad smile, full of happiness and love. 

“Mine,” Vilkas said proudly, and then grunted as Farkas slapped him on the back with his free arm. 

“Alright,” he said happily, glad for his twin. “We’re gonna need to get you cleaned up, and the Companions are of course going to want to come.”

“Naturally,” Vilkas quipped, turning around and walking away with his brother to make the plans necessary for their trip. Aelinna watched as the men went over to the tables, both brandishing a babe. At the moment she was just happy to get a break, it had been hard on her since the birth. Vilkas had known that though, that’s why he had pushed her to return here.

To come back to family, who would help them raise the twins. In her mind’s eye, the wolf twins ran past her as young children, trailed by the aged up versions of her own kids. If Skjor had been alive, he would have likely been overjoyed to meet the next generation of warriors, but he was surely smiling down from Sovngarde. 

A tap on her shoulder brought her back to the present, and she looked over to see Ria standing there. “You’re gonna need a dress, Harbinger,” she said, smiling. “We could look around here, or go to the Radiant Raiment in Solitude.” Aelinna looked thoughtful at this prospect. 

Solitude was a fair distance from here, not quite as far as Riften but it was definitely a ways away. “We could all get new outfits there,” Ria suggested, clearly trying to wheedle her into agreeing. “Seeing as it’s not gonna be an easy trip, we could always hunt bears and trade the furs for extra finery.”

Sighing, Aelinna agreed with a smile. Off to Solitude then, and after that, marriage in the city of Riften.


	24. Insanity

Since all of the Companions wanted to attend the wedding of the Harbinger, it was a no-brainer that they would all head towards Solitude to purchase finery for such a joyous occasion. All eight members had saddled supplies on horses, and Aelinna had seen no reason to try and stop them. Their enthusiasm was infectious, so it was hard to remain in any mood other than happy. They made for a jubilant caravan, leaving for Solitude when the sun was just beginning to show in the sky. 

Singing, laughter, and storytelling helped to pass the time while they traveled, and after a few hours Aelinna halted the party so she could feed her children. While most of them either stretched their legs or went scouting for fresh meat to eat, Vilkas stayed to hold a babe while Aela helped with the skeins of water and bottles of herbal paste. 

The harnesses truly were a godsend in terms of traveling with the twins, as it made it much easier to move around. Thankfully after being nursed and changed the babies merely went back to sleep, so Aela put the skeins and bottles away after Vilkas had sent her a scathing look when she tried to approach to help. He was still angry at her for snarling at his brother, but Aelinna had no intentions of stepping in to his business. 

Farkas approached a few minutes later, a sweetroll in his mouth as he held out some apples. The pair accepted the snack, munching quickly and efficiently before stashing the cores lest they attract bears to their location. With their quick meal over with, the party set off again towards their destination. When a sabre cat decided to try and make the horses its lunch, it learned very quickly that nine warriors are not something to be trifled with. 

It was nearing the end of sunset when they drew close to the area where Windstad Manor was when a werewolf abruptly darted in front of Aelinna’s horse. Allie reared, but Aelinna managed to bring her mare back under control so she could dismount and investigate. The others followed suit, drawing their weapons. 

Aelinna approached the beast, who had stopped and was staring at her. “Never thought I’d see you again,” said a pleasant voice, and she blinked in surprise. 

“Sinding?” she asked, completely shocked.

“Aye,” the werewolf replied. 

“What are you doing way out here?” Aelinna questioned, looking confused. Sinding looked around, not quite understanding the question. The Companions seemed both concerned and apprehensive at the fact she was talking to a lone werewolf, but since her blade remained sheathed and her bow unslung, they decided not to attack at the moment. 

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘way out here?’” he responded, tilting his head a little. She pointed in the general direction of Windstad Manor.

“You’re awfully close to my home, and our deal was for you to avoid civilization in exchange for sparing your life,” she said. Sinding snorted, shaking his head at her.

“My apologies,” he replied. “I was chasing some elk and must have wandered deeper into the hold than intended. I’ll head out as soon as you pass.”

“Good lad,” she stated, earning her a wolfish chuckle. 

“Don’t let Hircine take you,” he warned, stepping out of the road so that the horses could pass without fear of him suddenly attacking.

“He won’t, not for a while at least,” she muttered, going back to Allie and swinging back into the saddle. 

Saluting the werewolf, the DragonBorn snapped her reins and continued on her journey to her other home. The others looked back at him as they rode by, but Sinding was true to his word and turned back into the trees the way he came. Hooves thundered in the air as they came to Windstad proper, and Valdimar came outside to see what all the fuss was about. 

As he took in nine horses, it was quite obvious that the tiny stable with two stalls wasn’t going to cut it. “Just do what you can,” Aelinna said to him, and he nodded. Dismounting, she led Allie over to the pen with her cow and chickens and let her graze there. Her steward made a face at this, but said nothing. 

Vilkas led Tavi to shelter beside the pen, since there wasn’t enough room for two horses and a cow. Athis put his horse in one stall, and Ria followed suit with the other. Valdimar assisted in moving the other five horses to graze in the least area of wind, but since they were near a marsh it was difficult. 

With that all said and done, Aelinna and Valdimar then helped bring in the saddlebags while the Companions went inside the house. The fire was roaring cheerily in the fireplace, and a large cooking pot was actively boiling a dinner of what looked like some hearty stew. The supplies were lugged into the greenhouse, while the DragonBorn sat at the table to catch her breath. 

Valdimar mopped sweat from his brow, sighing. “There are only four beds, so you’ll have to use bedrolls,” he said apologetically, before going outside to grab some more firewood. The men and women nodded, having expected something like this. It was out of the question for Aelinna to give up her bed when she’d already given up her stable. When Valdimar tried to give up his bed there was a protest from the Companions, and he shrugged. 

After a quick discussion, it was decided that Farkas would get the other bed, and the rest would bed down in the cellar by the forge since it would be warmer. Traipsing down to get their bedrolls set up for the night, Aela lingered behind while giving the Harbinger an odd look. She took a deep breath, waiting to see what she wanted. 

“This Sinding…” she began hesitantly. Aelinna wanted to stab herself in the ear. “He is a werewolf?”

Aelinna nodded, wishing she was somewhere, anywhere else. “He is.” Pretty sure she knew what was coming next, she braced herself. 

“How?” was the question, but Aelinna knew that the question was more than that.

“He was cursed by Hircine, wearing His ring,” she replied, watching Aela’s face closely for her reaction. Predictably, there was surprise. Then a look she couldn’t immediately name. 

“A follower of Hircine?” Aela asked, looking both guarded and hopeful. The DragonBorn shook her head, then realized she needed to explain. 

“Hircine decided that he was no longer of any use to him, and chose me to end his life in a Hunt,” she began, sighing. “Instead I chose to spare his life, killing those Hircine sent to destroy him.” Aela’s eyes widened slightly, but gave nothing else away. 

“Hircine found such act of defiance amusing, and made me His Champion,” she finished lamely, looking away. Aela reached across the table and touched her hand. She didn’t look into the amber eyes of the wolf maiden, knowing that at that moment she was wishing that the Harbinger hadn’t cured herself of the werewolf blood, had remained a beast so she could truly be the Hunter’s Champion. 

“Sinding and I struck a deal. As long as he stayed away from civilization, I would leave him in peace. But should he kill another human being, I would send him to the Hunting Grounds without a second thought,” Aelinna added as an afterthought. Aela took her hand away as she nodded, then abruptly stood up and left the room. 

“Should you have told her that?” Vilkas asked, sitting down and bouncing Vardulf on his knee. 

“There was no harm in doing so,” Aelinna replied, touching Ylva’s head as she lightly snored against her chest. 

“Aela is lonely,” Vilkas murmured, his voice dropping so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “Especially now that Skjor is gone.”

Aelinna had been drinking some mulled wine when he said that, and predictably choked, spraying some of the wine onto the table. Vilkas thumped her back while she coughed, eyes watering. “What is this, ‘Days of our Lives?’” she mumbled sarcastically, and he laughed. At that moment dinner was ready, and the table quickly filled with the warriors who had worked up quite an appetite from their travels. 

Thankfully nothing else of note happened that night, aside from Aela sneaking out of the house while everyone else was asleep. By the next morning she had returned, and no one was the wiser since werewolves didn’t get restful sleep anyways. Breakfast was only interesting in the sense of trying to feed ten adults and two children, and Aelinna realized that Samuel and Lucia would want to attend the wedding as well, and made a mental note to buy outfits for them too. 

Sooner rather than later everything was packed up and ready to go, and the party took off in the direction of Solitude. The horses made good time in the countryside, although in order to get to the city proper they did have to navigate the water since it was easier to cut across as opposed to going around for several miles to take the path. 

No one complained at this, nor would they have had breath to do so while keeping their steeds under control. The water was cold but not frigid, and surprisingly quiet while the beasts swam towards their destination. Approaching the East Empire Company Warehouse on the docks, Aelinna deftly maneuvered her mare up the ladder in a feat that shouldn’t have been possible before getting onto the docks themselves.

Since there wasn’t room to pause, the DragonBorn continued, moving back towards land and the road while the others followed in single file. Once everyone had caught up, she paused to let Allie breathe and regain her stamina while running her eyes over the party, counting mentally. Good, nobody had been lost to the depths. With that she pulled out a sweet roll and munched on it, before looking down at Ylva in her harness to see if she was alright. 

The baby sneezed, and while she found it cute she began to worry about the cold. After a few minutes they continued onward again, traveling around and up to the city gates. Leaving their horses near the gates, the Companions slipped inside the doors and found themselves within the heart of the empire. 

It was immediately obvious that aside from the small contingent that had traveled the year prior to visit with Jarl Elisif the Fair, people were not used to seeing the Companions. Especially not all of them, and two newborns to boot. They were such a sight that just about everyone stopped what they were doing to stare. 

The party strolled casually through the square over to Radiant Raiment, and while they had a bigger audience than usual people didn’t get in their way. Ria seemed to be taking the attention in stride along with Torvar, but Athis hung back. Vignar saw this, slinging an arm around his shoulders and all but marching Athis into the building. 

Endarie was behind the counter when the party came in, and she looked about as thrilled as someone realizing the dog just tracked mud in from outside the house and is now rolling all over the floor to spread it about. Aelinna was not perturbed by this, she always looked like she wanted to kill herself to keep from talking to people. 

Taarie wandered up from the living quarters, pausing when she realized there were nine people and two babies crowding the store. The look on her face suggested that she smelled fresh excrement on her boot. Aelinna took that in as well as she squeezed past and popped free, and not for the first time she wondered how the Hel these two ever got any business.

“Oh, what delight. Another charming customer,” Endarie greeted, as sardonic as ever. Aela made a face, while the others milled about and tried to look around to see the various things for sale. 

“Nine fine outfits, two children’s fine outfits, and two infant clothes, please,” Aelinna said, pulling out a bag of septims and placing it on the counter. Both sisters looked visibly shocked by a large order, sharing a glance before Taarie took the money. 

“Let me just drop everything to help you. I don't mind. Really,” Endarie said then, coming around the counter and sniffing a bit at the others. “Let's see if we can't find an outfit that suits you.” While her tone of voice suggested that she’d rather go fight a dragon barehanded, an order this large with gold upfront meant that she put in some semblance of effort into making a sale. 

Some time later, they re-emerged into the sunshine with their clothing. Taarie had snorted when asked about wedding apparel, but had quit her attitude when the matter of Vittoria’s dress had come up. That done, everyone held onto their parcels and headed back out of the city. The various armors glinted in the sunlight, but the spectacle had mostly worn off now so the townspeople more or less ignored them.

Getting their parcels into the saddlebags on their various mounts, the Companions then began their trek back to Whiterun for further preparations. The first leg seemed easy, too easy, and more than one of them was on edge. Aedra and Daedra alike were fickle beings, there was no way they could travel halfway across Skyrim without some kind of trouble. 

The elder dragon roared as it swooped in from above. A few seconds later it was joined by a frost dragon, and their commingled cries seemed to shake the landscape. Horses reared, whinnying while the Companions fought to keep them under control. 

“This is bad!” Aela called, wheeling her horse around. 

“There’s no way we can take on two dragons!” Njada cried, unsheathing a weapon. 

“We have no choice!” Aelinna shouted, a grim look of determination on her face as the elder dragon blocked off a path of retreat with a line of fire across the grass. The frost dragon blocked off the route behind them with a line of ice, and all but Vignar Grey-Mane dismounted. The horses scattered, and Vilkas rushed over to Vignar, taking off his harness and handing the whole thing to the man.

Aelinna did the same, and Vignar did his best to juggle two babes whilst using his knee to steer the horse. He tried to get as far out of the way as he could, but with two dragons circling about it was quite difficult. As one the pair turned, tracking the great beasts in the sky with desperation. This was not going to be an easy fight. 

“Fus Ro Dah!” Aelinna Shouted the Thu’um at the elder dragon as it streaked past, and it scored a hit. Without waiting, she strung her ebony bow and fired ebony arrows at it as fast as she could, with assistance from Vilkas and Aela. Arrows rained down upon it, but this dragon was tougher than the usual ones. 

Farkas, Athis, Njada, and Torvar focused on the frost dragon when it landed to make a meal of them, using their weapons to hack at it. When the elder dragon landed to do the same, Ria joined Aela, Vilkas, and Aelinna as they desperately tried to take the beast down. 

“Fo Krah Diin!” Ice shot from Aelinna as surely as if she’d been like the frost dragon roaring loud enough to deafen them. She’d been aiming for the elder dragon as it snapped at Aela, and it took the Thu’um to the face. Rattled, the dragon tried to shake it off while Vilkas slashed viciously with Wuthraad. 

Panting heavily, Aelinna desperately fired off arrow after arrow while waiting for her innate DragonBorn ability to recharge. Chaos abounded as horses whinnied, Companions shouted, and steel crashed into dragonhide. As soon as she got the chance, she turned to the frost dragon. “Yol Toor Shul!” She all but screamed at it, and the dragon let out a mighty roar as fire consumed it’s maw. 

Eternity seemed to pass before the frost dragon finally died, collapsing onto the ground as the soul rushed into Aelinna. She wiped sweat from her face as the bloodied snout of the elder dragon missed her body by inches. All eight fighters descended upon it, and unrelenting force was used as often as she dared to keep it grounded. 

With the combined efforts that beast was also shuffled off its mortal coil, and the dragon fell down dead. The soul rushed forwards, swirling about Aelinna as she panted for breath. The battle finished, Aelinna fell onto her butt and merely rested while the others set about getting their horses back. 

Vignar rode carefully, eyeing the bones of the dragons before handing down the children to Vilkas. The babies were crying, and Vilkas handed Vardulf to Farkas then proceeded to try and calm Ylva. It took several minutes before the wolf twins could calm them, and Aelinna then took them for tandem nursing while Vilkas assisted her. 

“Gods above, I’ve never seen two dragons attack at once,” Torvar said at length, plopping down onto the grass after grabbing a wineskin from his horse. 

“That was pretty hairy,” Ria replied, Njada Stonearm nodding in agreement.

“We were lucky,” Aela stated, slinging her bow across her back and sitting with an apple. 

Aelinna said nothing while she nursed the twins, knowing that they were all right. She’d taken on one dragon plenty of times, alone or with some kind of help. She’d never been in a battle where two were trying to send her off to Sovngarde before her time. A part of her wondered if the battles were going to be that much harder from here on out, or if that was just a fluke. 

There was no real way to know, save for asking the Gods themselves. Aelinna had no intention of doing that, even if she was a Champion for some of them. After a while she realized someone was watching her, and she looked up into the gray gaze of Aela. It was good to see that her wolf was sleeping once again, the only real clue when it was struggling to get control when her eyes were amber in color. 

A confused look crossed her face, and Aela simply looked away without saying anything. There was no time to find out what was going on right now, but the Companions were more focused on just catching their breath before they resumed their journey home. Eventually they’d all felt rested enough to climb back onto their horses, and with the harnesses back in place the babes slept again. 

Somehow, they ran into nothing else before making it home to Whiterun. It was like they were a band, sent by an elven lord to save the world from the ultimate darkness though they lacked dwarves and a wizard. They were not simply walking into Mordor though, merely trudging back to Jorrvaskr for much needed sleep and recuperation. 

“One king, to rule them all,” Aelinna mumbled to herself, bastardizing a quote she’d heard in some tavern somewhere by a drunk. Chuckling, she sat down inside the hall to let Samuel and Lucia hug her and fawn over Vardulf as he snoozed against her chest. Vilkas sat down next to her after setting down a few bundles for Brill and Tilma the Haggard take to the living quarters.

Lucia was ecstatic at learning she had a little sister, and Samuel seemed to like having a younger brother. As the others filed past to drop off bundles and head off to bed, Vilkas gently pulled Ylva free from her harness so that the children could get a better look. While they were distracted Aelinna took the opportunity to change Vardulf. 

“Can I hold her, momma?” Lucia asked, her eyes sparkling while standing by Vilkas’ shoulder. As she picked up Vardulf she nodded, watching her elder children. She was smiling at their bonding, and realized that her little family had grown exponentially. 

“Mind her head,” Vilkas murmured, cupping a hand under Ylva’s skull while Lucia carefully picked up her baby sister. Lucia made faces to amuse her, and briefly touched the little leather hat that was on Ylva’s head. Ylva smiled up at Lucia, waving her little hands and cooing. Vilkas had a huge grin on his face while also hovering his hands nearby in case Lucia suddenly had problems holding the newborn. 

“Hey, mom?” Samuel had approached her, and Aelinna glanced over at him. “Can I hold Vardulf?”

“Sure, dear,” Aelinna replied, slowly handing him to her elder son. Samuel was exceedingly gentle, content to just look down at his brother while Vardulf slept. After a couple minutes he gave the baby back, wandering off outside. Aelinna watched him go, observing Rayya following him. Deciding he probably just wanted to get some practice in with the new knife she’d given him, She gestured for Lucia to go play for a bit after giving Ylva back. 

Lucia protested, but a stern look leveled her way had her acquiescing to the gentle command. That done, the Harbinger and her Companion went down into the living quarters to rest before the other journey to Riften began. They knew that many people were going to be heading to the Temple of Mara, but if they were lucky all that had been within the ancient hall would travel with them.


End file.
